


Food Fantasy Shipping Oneshots

by ChewingstonChew



Category: Food Fantasy
Genre: Drabble, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Multiple ships, Oneshot, Request Meme, Romance, implied sexy times???? But very vague and never explicit, sfw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-06-15 22:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 20,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15423111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChewingstonChew/pseuds/ChewingstonChew
Summary: “I have looked at you in millions of ways and I have loved you in each.”





	1. ChocolatexCoffee

The arrangement had started on fairly normal terms (well, as normal as you could get as a Food Soul). After the meeting between the two, Chocolate continued to come again and again. They’d share many a evening chatting, and on occasion, Chocolate would help sweep things up. The coffeehouse had continued to do well, and business was good. 

That didn’t mean things were and had always been fine. From the very beginning  he couldn’t ignore the way his eyes lingered on the man’s frame, and the way the air between them grew tense, yet exhilarating. 

Coffee was a man of business. He believed in professionalism. While Chocolate was not necessarily his employee, he didn’t think it would have been appropriate to initiate anything. Besides, the man was still mourning his loss. 

And so, things continued on like this. Every week day, Chocolate would come in around the late evening, order a drink, and then stay to either help tidy things or chat with Coffee. Then, the coffeehouse would close and they would walk back together.

It was this particular day that would break this sense of normalacy. 

It was the day after Coffee had returned from a week on campaign. The last few customers had left and he was now preparing the coffeehouse for closing time. Chocolate, the only one present besides Coffee, let his gaze follow Coffee around the room. He asked, “How do you manage to keep the store when you’re off fighting?” 

Coffee hummed as he flipped the door’s sign to ‘Closed.’ “Tiramisu usually helps, as you saw yesterday.”

He walked to the back, and retrieved some papers and a pen. “If she and I are both gone, then it’s probably Brownie.”

He chuckled. “He claims it's good practice for becoming a butler.”

Chocolate snorted, and Coffee sat down in the seat across from him. 

“If that boy really wants to become a butler, I think he should have taken emoting lessons first.” Chocolate remarked as he drummed his fingers on the table. “He has about the emotional range of a spoon.”

“Don’t be so hard on him,” Coffee chided. “From what I’ve learned from serving humans, many care more about efficiency, not companionship.”

“I suppose.” Chocolate sighed. “Hopefully that boy finds someone who’s like that, then.”

Coffee hummed a reply. He uncapped his pen and begin writing down needed supplies and items. He was concentrating on recalling which things were low and which things weren’t, but then he felt a strange sensation. Like he was being watched. He looked up and saw Chocolate staring at him with an startling intensity. 

“What is it?” He inquired. 

“Don’t you ever take off your sunglasses?” Chocolate asked, not breaking the gaze. “What kinda weirdo wears sunglasses indoors?”

“My sunglasses?” Instinctively, he touched the frames. “Well, yes. I do take them off. But don’t you think they lend to my air of mystique? After all, eyes are the windows to the soul.” He winked. 

Apparently Chocolate did not care for his mystery and mystique, because the next thing Coffee knew, Chocolate had leaned over the table and lifted his sunglasses up himself. Coffee’s surprised sky blues greeted him. 

Chocolate’s smile was poorly hidden. He let a laugh escape, and guffawed, “Well, if eyes are windows to the soul, and everyone knew you had these kinda baby blues, they’d all know the smooth talk was all a lie.”

Coffee couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Well, I think that my baby blues are more enchanting, than childish.”

“Say what you want to believe, then.” Chocolate smirked, and Coffee let his laugh die down to a grin. 

That was when he noticed just how close their faces were. They were so close that he could feel the radiating warmth of Chocolate’s face on his own.  

He also noted that Chocolate had a different look. It was less… mischievous than usual. Almost serious. 

Chocolate let his hand let go of the sunglasses, resting them on top of Coffee’s head. He let that hand trail down to brush Coffee’s cheek, and goosebumps raced down Coffee’s body. 

His mouth was slightly agape, he realized. But he didn’t have it in him to close it. 

Chocolate closed even more distance, and Coffer could feel his  breaths, mixing with his own. 

They were so, so close now. The tiny, minuscule distance between them was dizzingly so. 

Chocolate’s eyes were half lidded now. And… was he leaning in? Oh gods, he was. 

Coffee couldn’t think straight. His mind was being muddled by desire and excitement. He felt like his chest was being strangled, and his lungs couldn’t breath enough air. The rate at which Chocolate was drawing near wasn’t helping. He swallowed, but that didn’t help his dry throat at all. 

It was when their lips were barely touching that Coffee breathlessly said, “Stop.” 

Chocolate stopped, but when he gazed into Coffee’s eyes, he looked confused, almost like a child who had been refused a sweet. 

Coffee was burning up. It was too hot in here. He covered his reddening cheeks with a hand. 

“It… it isn’t you. I just have some things I need to do before I leave.” He coughed, not daring to look at Chocolate’s face. “Please, you should leave first. Don’t wait for me.”

There was silence. He allowed himself one look. 

Chocolate’s face was unreadable. Was it embarrassment? Humiliation? Anger? Resentment?

And then, the man simply replied. “Sure.” He leaned back down to his side of the table, and got up, making wide strides towards the glass door. 

Coffee was a coward. A damned, foolish coward. 

“I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow,” He tried calling as Chocolate twisted the doorknob. Chocolate didn’t respond, and soon, his tall figure disappeared into the evening’s darkness. Coffee listened to his footsteps on the road outside until there was nothing but silence. 

In his new solitude, Coffee just let out a deep, pained sigh, and buried his shamed face in his hands. 


	2. BlackTeaxMilk

Milk’s blank face remained expressionless as she carefully wrapped the bandages on Black Tea’s arm. She was intently focused on applying just enough pressure to prevent more bleeding but not too much as to constrict blood flow. 

Black Tea ignored the dull pain that shot up her arm, and glanced over. Coffee was lying motionless on the tarp, along with Tom Yum and Crepe, who were nursing their wounds. 

The previous battle had been a lot tougher than expected. They had been ambushed by a group of Fallen Angels without warning, and now, Coffee’s unconscious body was to show for it. 

Milk’s soft voice interrupted Black Tea’s thoughts. “It should heal in a bit a day. Just don’t jostle it.” Milk got up from kneeling, and her skirts quietly swished as she went to get more supplies. 

Black Tea looked down to examine her arm. It had been badly scratched by a Fallen Angel’s attack. Luckily, despite the overwhelming odds against them, she had managed to take down the creature with one last powerful attack. 

_ That’s right, _ she thought.  _ She must never forget the lives depending on her. The innocents she must not let down.  _

Milk came back with a towel, and began dabbing away the dirt streaks on Black Tea. “Please, you must be more careful.” She monotonically cautioned. To an ordinary observer, Milk seemed nonchalant as she said those words. But Black Tea could see that from the way her pale arms trembled, to her downcast eyes, that she was anything but. 

“I will.” Black Tea replied, relaxing and clenching her hand. “I need to. Our enemies only get stronger from here on out. I can’t afford to fail everyone.”

Milk only pursed her lips. Was she displeased? Black Tea wondered. 

She only sighed, and took Black Tea’s good hand, lacing her fingers with her own. She gently squeezed it and murmured, “I know that the life we have is one full of dangers and hazards, but if I could, and if you can, please, don’t wear yourself out too thin.” Milk’s glassy eyes stared. “Do it for me, do it for Master Attendant, but most of all, do it for you.”

There was a silence between them. And then, Black Tea squeezed back. “I will do my best.”

Milk leaned her head against Black Tea’s shoulder and closed her eyelids. “Good.”

And even a woman as serious as Black Tea couldn’t help but wear a small smile.

“Shouldn’t you take a look at Coffee?” 

“...I want to sit here for just a bit.”


	3. PasteldeNataxNapoleonCake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for implied nsfw??? Idk it’s very vague but I’m playing it safe.

“Nata…” 

Nata felt a jolt as Napoleon slumped onto Nata’s back and wrapped his arms around his middle. He couldn’t say that it wasn’t a nice feeling, but he also couldn’t say that it was convenient.

“The tarts are going to be ruined because of you.” 

Napoleon didn’t seem to care, mumbling something Nata couldn’t make out.

Nata only snorted, and tried his best to concentrate on preparing the frosting. It was no easy feat, but he managed. 

“How was it?” He asked the Food Soul. Napoleon had been on a week long mission with a few other Food Souls in Nevras. 

“You know, same old, same old.” Napoleon snuggled into Nata’s back further. “I couldn’t wait to get back to you.”

“High words.” Nata remarked. “How were the meals?” He knew that was a question Napoleon was always eager to answer. 

“Absolutely terrible.” Napoleon grumped. “We went out to this downtown restaurant and the pie was entirely too cold in the center, the apples were too sour, and the crust was completely bland. I would have gone up to the chef myself and told him how they could afford a few lessons from you, but Master Attendant stopped me.”

“Master Attendant has the right idea.” Nata replied. “You would have gotten everybody kicked out, and then everyone would have been hungry.”

“True.” Napoleon sighed into Nata’s back. 

Nata hummed. Whenever Napoleon went on a campaign, he would often come back complaining about how the pastries were no match for the ones he got to enjoy at home. For someone who got to sample some of the finest dishes of Tierra, he usually came back with a complaint about the temperature, the texture, the smell, etc, etc. 

Even Nata himself thought that a few of those complaints were exaggerated, on the occasions where he got to eat with Napoleon. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered. 

Of course, those weren’t the only compliments he gave Nata. There were bright comparisons, flowery poem s, and passionate whispers. Nata… Nata still wasn’t quite sure how to take them. Usually, he’d brush them off with a scoff. But on the inside, he saved those small moments, keeping those memories close to his core.

He was used to people really only needing his skills. It was how he tended to operate. He provided a service and people commended the service. No one cared who exactly provided the service. 

But… Napoleon was different. Despite his ridiculous sugar fixation, years of dealing with the Food Soul had taught him that he could appreciate things in life besides sugar. Or as Napoleon himself had put it, “The best spoils I get are your heart.” (Nata had protested the cheesy line) Even if initially, he had only joined to provide an adequate amount of sugar for Napoleon.

He began scooping the sugary glaze into the piping bag, and started compressing it down. That was so long ago...

He didn’t really know how to deal with someone who cared more about who baked the goods than the goods themselves. But, maybe he would get there one day. With the help of Napoleon, of course. 

His thoughts were interrupted when Napoleon shifted his head from the middle of his back to the crook of his shoulder. And now he was burrowing himself there. 

Well. If he thought Napoleon before was distracting, now he was positively maddening. He continued, however. 

A word for future bakers: It’s extremely difficult to focus on icing tarts when your significant other in question is nuzzling your neck and you can feel his long eyelashes tickle you, along with his infuriatingly curly locks, his sun freckled cheeks, and that ridiculous hat-

An audible gasp came out of him when he felt Napoleon press a kiss below his ear, a place they both knew where he was sensitive.

_ Merda. _ These tarts were never going to get done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merda- shit in Portuguese.


	4. BlackTeaxMilk (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tumblr request I’m uploading here for posterity lol

A sigh escaped Milk’s lips as Black Tea pulled back from the kiss.

“What’s the matter?” She whispered, tracing Milk’s soft chin.

“It’s nothing.” Milk simply replied, burying her face in Black Tea’s shoulder.

“You should know that doesn’t work on me.” She amusedly responded.

Milk only exhaled once more, burying her face deeper. There was a silence before she spoke. “I’m… just tired. The after battle injuries were tough today.”

“Apparently one of the teams had a bad encounter. Everyone had something that needed to be taken care of.” Milk yawned, and a teardrop escaped. “I wish I could have done more, but Master Attendant forced me to retire for today.”

Her hand clenched into a fist against Black Tea’s chest. “…What’s the point if I don’t try everything I can?” She murmured quietly.

Black Tea listened to her partner intently, her arms encircled around Milk’s waist. She had noticed the dark circles under Milk’s pale eyes earlier and felt a wave of worry. It looked like her suspicions were correct, then.

“But, you know that. I’ll find my way back into the treatment tent, somehow.” Milk rubbed her eyes. “I just hope Master Attendant doesn’t find out…” She yawned again and made a move to get up, but Black Tea only embraced her closer.

“Milk.” Black Tea’s clear voice rang out. “Do you remember when you told me not to wear myself out too thin?”

Milk blinked. “Yes. You have been making slight progress in that, I suppose.”

Black Tea chuckled. “I am glad. But I think that you should follow your advice.”

She touched her forehead to Milk’s. “I don’t believe the treatment tent needs an exhausted and overworked medic. I think they want a well rested and alert one.”

Milk’s eyebrows knit themselves together. “But what if they need my help? Miso Soup isn’t all that experienced, and Tiramisu-“

Milk was cut off by Black Tea. She took a long, pale strand of Milk’s hair, and kissed it tenderly.

“No buts. You must hold to your words, Milk,” she smiled. “Otherwise, how am I supposed to?”

Milk shook her head slowly. “You are truly going to be both my ruin and my savior.” A slow smile appeared on her face.

“I would have it no other way.” Black Tea replied. “Now, we should rest. You have a busy day ahead of you.”

“Mmm.” Milk mumbled, barely nodding. Black Tea chuckled as Milk relaxed in her arms.


	5. RedWinexSteak

Red Wine never liked the heat.

He suspects that this dislike first arose due to how it was often accompanied by sunlight, which is something he very strongly disliked (for good reason).

There were other reasons, obviously. For one, the heat caused him to sweat ridiculously, not helped by his coats and heavy cravats. And he was not at all fond of how his hair frizzed up in the humidity.

The biggest reason, however, was Steak.

He hated Steak plenty enough on its own, but for _some_ reason, there was always a suffocating aura of heat around him. Maybe it was the horns, the Food Soul’s natural disposition, or the actual burning flames on his swords, but wherever it came from, Red Wine disliked it.

What was most irritating was Steak’s strange habit of turning up the heat whenever he got nervous, flustered, angry, etc.

This was most obvious whenever their Master Attendant was around. Everytime they were around, Steak’s eyes would light up, his posture would straighten, and of course, that omnipresent heat would intensify.

It was quite possibly the most sickening thing he had ever seen. Red Wine would have rather stabbed himself then continue to witness it over and over.

Unfortunately, being on the same team as Steak meant that he played witness to these sights often. Perhaps that was why he was so much more irritated when Master Attendant had left, and why he became so much more bent on riling Steak up afterwards.

In a way, that was closest he was ever going to get to Steak heating up for him. Their relationship was littered with insults, spats, and duels. Even as a technically immortal Food Soul, Red Wine didn’t see the end of their rivalry coming to fruition.

But some part of him foolishly held out, that perhaps one day, they wouldn’t want it like that.

Maybe that’s why he hated the heat so much. It served to remind him what he didn’t have. What he could never have.


	6. MisoSoupxMasterAttendant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by moonrein on here!

“Sanma!” 

Sanma turned to face Miso Soup, predictably stroking a cat in his arms. “Good morning, Miso Soup. How was your night?”

“Well enough, well enough.” Miso exhaled as he kicked off his shoes, and took a seat next to Sanma. “Terribly crumbly crackers though.”

“Weren’t you supposed to be reciting the Buddha’s scripture?” Sanma’s face didn’t change at all, but Miso could catch the teasing tone in his voice. 

“I most certainly was!” Miso exclaimed. “I just feared that I would get hungry and snuck in some crackers with me!” 

“And now I am here to regret my choices,” Miso sighed dramatically. “The crumbly crackers must have been to punish me for my sin.”

Sanma hummed. The cat he was cradling shifted, and gracefully leaped out of his arms. 

“Didn’t Master Attendant visit you?” Sanma asked, watching the cat stride away. 

Miso’s energetic expression faded away. He looked away, and then back, and it had been replaced by something quieter, subtler. “Yes.”

Another cat walked over, and Sanma let it nuzzle his hand. 

“They just dropped by to see how I was.” Miso nonchalantly said. “They heard out my complaints about the crackers and gave me an extra one they had.”

“Master Attendant is quite sweet, honestly.” A soft smile appeared on Miso’s face, and his eyes looked distant. 

Sanma did not look up from the cat. “Miso. How do you feel about Master Attendant?”

Miso flinched, and then tried to recompose himself with a cough. 

“Well… I immensely enjoy their presence.” Miso was trying too hard to look not affected. “And they’re so caring and attentive.”

Miso sighed again, and in a dreamy tone, “And so beautiful… absolutely lovely.”

“Really.” That teasing tone had found itself back in Sanma’s voice. 

Miso pouted, and indignantly crossed his arms. 

“Well, who wouldn’t like Master Attendant?” Miso huffed. “They’re so extraordinary! Unbelievably so!”

He held out a hand. “They’re so patient, so kind, so caring, so attentive…” Miso trailed off, listing out Master Attendant’s every virtue. 

Sanma chuckled. “Well, I like Master Attendant too. They’re rather good natured.”

Another cat crawled into his arms, and he started stroking it. “I would have never thought that you would be so enamored with them, yes?” 

Miso picked up a cherry blossom petal, and inspected it. “Sanma, my good man. Even a seducer like me comes across someone exceptional every once in a while.”

He held the petal, and blew it away into the wind. “And how could I not find Master Attendant utterly amazing?”

The petal caught onto a breeze, and joined others as it left the garden. “The way they grin and their dimples show, the way the light filters through their pearlsilk hair, the tender way they hold anyone they touch, and their complete and total compassion for others.”

He grinned, but then it dimmed. He looked at the scenery of the restaurant’s backyard garden, still bathed in the early light of the morning. 

“I just … I just wish that they could see me as an equal.” 

“I thought that they did.” Sanma replied. He scratched behind the cat’s ears. “They have never demeaned us, nor treated us as lesser for being different...”

Miso shook his head quickly. “No, no. That’s not what I mean.” 

He carefully watched a white cat nuzzle against a black one. “I mean… I wish that they would see me… someone they could love.”

He stared off into the distance, far beyond the walls of the restaurant’s back garden. 

“Someone they could caress, someone they could embrace, someone they could grow old together.  All of it. I want all of it.” 

There was nothing but the mewls of the cats and the distant chirping of the crickets. Sanma finally spoke up, lifting his head to directly gaze into Miso’s eyes. 

“You know what falling for a human leads to, Miso.” Sanma quietly replied. 

“I know.” Miso responded. “And yet, I do it anyway.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note: if u wanna request more chara! x Master Attendant, please do so on imagine-food-souls on tumblr!


	7. RedWinexSteak (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another tumblr request im uploading here for posterity

Steak narrowed his eyes, and they changed from bright red to dark blood. “First one to let go,” he hissed. “Is  _ gay. _ ” 

Red Wine paused, and then began chuckling, donning a sinister grin. “Deal, goat imbecile.”

Those looking at the duo were very perplexed to see two full grown Food Souls holding hands together, while aggressively growling at each other and stomping down the street. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they requested fluff and this is what i give them


	8. ChocolatexCoffee (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huehuehue u guys asked for this

“So you’re telling us that you couldn’t handle a kiss?” Black Tea’s cool eyes gazed into him from across the table. 

It was the day after the incident. Currently, Black Tea, Milk, and Tiramisu were sitting across from Coffee at the table, looking like a trio of disapproving judges. 

Coffee leaned his head back and sighed. “I guess so.”

Milk did not smile, but he could hear the amusement in her voice. “I would not believe the famously flirtatious Coffee had ducked out of being kissed if he were not in front of me right now.” That earned her a glare from Coffee.

Tiramisu pursed her lips as she sipped her drink. “Don’t be ashamed Coffee. Everyone moves with romance at a different pace! It’s okay that you just weren’t ready!”

Coffee put his head in his hands. “I don’t think it’s normal that I feel like sending myself to the abyss afterwards, though.”

Tiramisu took another sip and cheerfully replied, “No, I’m quite sure it is!”

Coffee only groaned, and buried his face in his arms. There was a pause as the girls took their time judging him.

“You know, he’s liked you for quite some while.” Milk pointed out, stirring her drink.

“What?” Coffee looked up, and blinked. 

“You didn’t notice?” Tiramisu looked at him curiously. 

Coffee felt the heat creep on his cheeks, and sputtered, “No?”

Even Tiramisu had to narrow her eyes. “Haven’t you noticed all the pick up lines? The winks? The roses?”

“I...” He had to cough. “I just thought he did that for everyone.”

Black Tea took another sip from her tea cup. “Did you not notice all the staring?”

Milk smiled gently at her partner. “I have caught him staring so very often, always when he thought you weren’t looking.”

“Well...” Coffee covered his face, he was so embarrassed. “Perhaps I did. But I thought it was just me seeing things I wanted to see.”

Black Tea laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “You really are hopeless. I remember my days of pining for Milk...”

Milk’s face suddenly became flushed, and she averted her eyes. “Well regardless, what are you going to do now?”

Coffee leaned back, sighing. “I have absolutely no idea. How does one recover from rejecting a kiss? I’m sorry I was a coward, please kiss me now?”

Tiramisu put a finger to her lips, and looked at him thoughtfully. “You know, you might just be onto something with that...”

\---

Chocolate was currently looking out the window. 

Looking was the wrong word, actually. It implied that he was actually  _ looking  _ and  _ seeing  _ things. In reality, Chocolate was very busy with mentally beating himself up. 

_ “Why did you do that?” “You should have been more clear” “You really don’t know how to handle things do you” _

He closed his eyes. There were so many things he could have, would have done. If only he-

“Chocolate.” 

Brownie’s quiet monotone voice broke through the million others inside. 

“Hm?” He turned to face the shorter Food Soul. 

Brownie politely bowed his head. “Master Attendant requests that I get you to leave your room.”

“...Can I decline that?”

For a moment, Brownie’s facade of the polite and immovable butler cracked, as he furrowed his brows. “I’m afraid not.”

Chocolate twisted his face up, and then he turned away. “Brownie, I’m sorry to ask you this, but can you please just leave me?” He exhaled. “I’m simply not feeling up to my usual self.”

Brownie paused. “I will tell Master Attendant that.” He turned to walk away, but then he faltered, and turned back. “Chocolate. If it isn’t too private, may I ask what has got you in this state?”

Brownie stood awkwardly, unsure of whether to continue pressing or not. 

If it had been anyone else, Chocolate would have given them a tired wink and spouted off about how he simply was feeling under the weather. However, he had always viewed Brownie as a little brother of sorts. Someone he could mentor, and guide. He didn’t want to flat out deny him. He pursed his lips, trying to think of a way to explain his dilemma to Brownie. 

“Well… it’s something complicated.” He leaned back. 

Brownie took a seat across from Chocolate. “I have some time.”

Chocolate chuckled. “Well then.”

He crossed his arms. “How do I put it…”

“It’s when you feel nervous, even though by all accounts, you should be fine. You’re so unbelievably tense and yet so unimaginably happy.”

His finger traced the windowsill. “Some call it butterflies in your stomach, but for me, it feels more like lightning bolts.”

“All from a single person. Even that doesn’t fully describe just how much they mean to you.” He couldn’t help but let a smile through, at the thought of that person, even after everything that happened. 

“Do you get what I’m saying?” Chocolate glanced at Brownie. The Food Soul in question nodded back. 

“I do. Your descriptions are quite apt at communicating what you mean.”

“And I understand because I...” Brownie blushed, turning his head away. “I too, have felt that around someone.”

Chocolate’s entire frame perked up, and his eyes gleamed. “Oh?” He slyly remarked. “Whom, then?”

Brownie’s already flush face turned to a deeper red. “That’s… that’s none of your business.”

Chocolate pouted. “But Brownie, wouldn’t you want some advice from your older brother?~”

Brownie’s eyes had a mischievous glint to them. “No, not yet. I haven’t forgotten that we’re discussing your misfortunes here.”

Chocolate dramatically sighed. “Always so straight to the point.”

“I will find out, someday.” He gave Brownie a look. 

Brownie looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. “I’m sure. But your someone: it’s Coffee, isn’t it?”

Chocolate exhaled. “It was that obvious, huh?” 

The faintest hint of smile was on Brownie’s lips. “Quite.”

Chocolate leaned his chin against his hand. “I suppose it’s rather easy to tell for everyone except the the object of my affections.”

Brownie chuckled. “Is Coffee really that oblivious?”

Chocolate let out a breath. “You know, I couldn’t believe it myself either. But Coffee always manages to surprise me.”

Chocolate smiled, more to himself than anything. “I don’t remember when I found myself like this. I’ve never felt like this before. But of course, only Coffee would be able to awaken such feelings in me.” His eyes softened again.

Brownie patted his hand. “I think you have what Master Attendant would call, _ ‘smitten.’ _ ”

Chocolate wryly grinned. “I think they would be right. Coffee will be my end.”

The sound of footsteps down the hallway echoed down, and they both jumped. Brownie got off the window seat and said, “I’ll see who it is.”

“I just hope it’s not Master Attendant coming to call me out,” he sighed, already grimacing. He had always respected this new Master Attendant, and the last thing he would want to do was to disappoint them.

Brownie poked his head back in. 

“Well, you might be pleased. It’s Coffee.” Brownie replied, with a small smile. 

“What-” Chocolate barely had a moment to react before Brownie disappeared into the hallway. He was replaced by the man that had been driving Chocolate mad for the last year or so.

“Coffee.” He blinked.

“Chocolate.” He didn’t know if that response was cold or warm. Coffee’s eyes remained obscured under those circular shades, the same ones he had pulled off yesterday. 

“I’m-” He opened his mouth to spill out everything that had been on his mind the past few hours.

And then, without warning, Coffee grabbed his face. Chocolate’s last brain cell fizzled out. 

“I’m sorry.” Coffee sighed. 

“Sorry for what?”

“Sorry I couldn’t answer earlier.”

Before he could even comprehend how stupidly elegant and long Coffee’s fingers were, or how clear and radiant those baby blues were, or even how much his hand itched to run through those blonde locks, the distance between them became none. 

His lips really were as soft as Chocolate had fantasized them to be. He could only press further into them.

Both of their faces were warm when Coffee pulled away. 

“That’s my answer.” Coffee breathlessly said. 

His glasses were askew, Chocolate thought numbly. The best he could do was grab Coffee by the collar and kiss him again.


	9. YellowWinexSake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi i know literally nobody else asked for this but please i have STRONG feelings for this pairing and their adorable daughter

 

Jiuniang was a mixed blessing. Largely a blessing, as Sake loved her with every fiber of his being, but she still caused a few drawbacks here and there.

For one, was her effect on Yellow Wine. Whenever Jiuniang was around him, he would drive himself crazy (and everyone else) worrying about her every move and also pretending he didn’t. This was the same case when Jiuniang was absent, albeit worse.

She had been invited out on a shopping trip with Sakuramochi and some of the other girls. Their latest mission had taken place close to Parisel, and all the fashion conscious Food Souls had been talking about the city non-stop ever since B-52 had shown up in trendy Parisel clothes, bought by none other than Brownie.

Yellow had been hesitant about letting Jiuniang go off by herself, as he always was, but all it took was one look at Jiuniang’s pleading eyes for him to agree.

Now Jiuniang only left thirty minutes ago, but Yellow had already destroyed three training dummies, smashed two cups, and broken one table out of stress. And now he was here in Sake’s place, looking to get drunk at 2:00 pm because he didn’t know how else to deal with emotions.

It was fine. Sake was used to it.

Yellow was on his third jug of beer when Sake finally spoke up. “Yellow, Jiuniang will be fine.”

There was a forced laugh as Yellow Wine slammed the empty jug back down. “What makes you think that I’m worrying?”

Sake gave Yellow Wine a look. “Other than the fact that you’ve destroyed several articles of furniture, your fists are white from clenching the table.”

Yellow Wine looked down at his bone white hands, and loosened his grip, muttering something under his breath.

“So? That’s just an accident!” He scowled.

“Yellow, you’ve left an indentation in my table.” Sake pouted as he examined the notches.

Yellow Wine almost seemed to deflate as he exhaled.

“Alright, Sake, you got me there.” He ran his fingers back through his russet hair. “So I am a little concerned about Jiuniang.”

Sake couldn’t help but smile (it was better than raising his eyebrows at “a little concerned”).

“It is absolutely normal to be worrying about Jiuniang.” He responded. “In fact, it is a good thing that you display so much concern for her.”

Yellow Wine looked away, red dusting his cheeks. “It’s nothing.” He gruffly scowled.

Sake chuckled, and took a sip of his own drink. “Did you seriously believe that I couldn’t tell?”

Yellow Wine coughed, averting his gaze. “...Not really.”

He clenched and unclenched his fist. “I dunno know, I was just… I mean, it’s really…no, you know what I meant... ugh.”

Yellow Wine buried his face in his hands. “I’m just… still really goddamn worried.”

Sake put down his cup of liquor. “I know. I feel the same.” He felt his chest tense when he thought about the possibility about misfortune befalling Jiuniang.

Yellow Wine aggressively bobbed his head in agreement. “Ugh, not even fucking drinking is making me feel better!”

Yellow was drumming his fingers against the table so hard that Sake was afraid he was going to drill into the thing. “Fuck, I should have gone with her. At least then I could protect her- No, she deserves to hang out with girls her age, but gods, if something went wrong-“

Yellow Wine leaped out of his seat. “There’s just so many things that could happen!”

He was pacing back and forth now. Not a good sign.

“What if she gets robbed?”

“Sakuramochi and Cold Rice Shrimp will defend our little girl, and it’s only a few gold coins.”

“What if she kidnapped?”

“The girls will make sure that doesn’t happen. And she’s been training hard under you.”

“What if she gets attacked?”

“They’re going shopping in central Parisel. I don’t think a Fallen Angel is going to attack them there.”

Yellow didn’t respond. Instead, he only grabbed another jug from the table, and started chugging again.

Even Sake had to sigh at this point. He waited for Yellow to finish his swig before he spoke again.

He leaned in.

“Yellow… I know I can’t guarantee you certainty.” He softly spoke, brushing some of Yellow Wine’s hair out of his face. “No one can.”

“But what I can do is this. Promise you that everyone here will do everything in their power to prevent bad things from happening to Jiuniang.”

Yellow Wine didn’t respond for a bit. And then, he gently took Sake’s hand, and pressed it to his cheek. “Thanks…” he looked down to the ground. “I’m sorry I don’t know how to say it better.”

Sake kissed Yellow Wine’s forehead. “Don’t be sorry. I couldn't have said it better myself.”

He could feel Yellow Wine stiffen, and then soften into the gesture.

There was a silence as Sake took a seat next to Yellow Wine, not letting his hand go. Yellow Wine broke the quiet with a sigh.

“I need to relax,” Yellow Wine gazed down, looking embarrassed. “Too bad alcohol isn’t doing the trick, shit.”

“I have something that might.” Sake grinned, with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Yellow Wine raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “What could be better than getting shitfaced-”

Yellow Wine didn’t get to finish his sentence because Sake started kissing his neck, tugging at Yellow’s collar. Yellow Wine’s eyes widened before he melted.

Sake was a very private person; he didn’t like leaving his room and mostly kept to himself. That was why he was now praying to every god out there that Sakuramochi didn’t come back with Jiuniang early.


	10. BrowniexB-52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Nightmare sequence??? lots of self loathing and verbal abuse!!!!  
> SHOUT OUT TO LADYARUOFELYONIA FOR PROOF READING THIS GOD BLESS HER

B-52 wasn’t fond of sleeping. He technically didn’t need to, but it was quite useful for conserving energy in tricky situations.

B-52 wasn’t sure if he would classify this as a tricky situation.

Context: He, Brownie, Napoleon, Nata, and Vodka were on a mission in the Light Kingdom. There was a scheduled meeting with the client tomorrow morning, and normally, B-52 would have waited until the sun’s rays came out. Master Attendant seemed to have different plans, as before they had set out, they notified the group that they had reserved some rooms for them in a local inn.

Master Attendant had insisted that they wanted them to be well rested in preparation for the meeting, and they wouldn’t listen to B-52’s and Brownie’s protests. Both of them gave up when they realized it was pointless, and when B-52 investigated their rooms, all seemed fine.

There was a room for Vodka (away from the boys, he remembered Master Attendant explaining), a room for Nata and Napoleon, and a room for Brownie and B-52.

There was only one small problem.

Each room had only one bed.

When this was brought up, it only earned him a shrug and a wry grin from Vodka (who obviously had no problems with this) and a light laugh from Napoleon. Besides him and Brownie, the only one who seemed any bit concerned about this was Nata- who sighed and muttered something about how he wasn’t going to get any rest tonight.

This brings him to his current situation. He and Brownie were awkwardly standing in front of the lone bed.

B-52 wasn’t sure why he was so utterly and completely flustered by the possibility of having to share a bed with Brownie. Was it the possibility of physical contact? The fear of sprawling his mechanical limbs over Brownie’s body and burning him?

Would he be feeling the same way if it were anyone else? He didn’t think so. He would have just accepted the unusual situation and waited for day on the roof or somewhere. None of this breathlessness, this tension, or apprehension.

It really wasn’t out of the norm for only Brownie to have such an effect on him. In fact, Brownie did so almost constantly.

He thought back to a few hours ago, when he had seen Brownie’s face in the setting sun, haloed by the orange and purple rays, creating an ethereal glow around him. His heart had dipped unevenly, creating an unpleasant feeling of pressure in his chest, and even thinking about it now tightened his chest.

Brownie politely coughed, stopping all B-52’s thoughts of sunsets and haloes. “Erm, I don’t believe Master Attendant mentioned this...”

If B-52 wasn’t currently feeling like crawling into a hole, he would have almost thought Brownie’s cheeks were dusted with red. But that was mere delusion.

He calmly replied, “It’s fine, Brownie. You can take the bed.”

Brownie turned to face him with wide eyes. “You really don’t have to do that B-52. After all, you need the rest more-”

B-52 cut Brownie off with a brisk shake of his head. “It’s perfectly fine. Besides, a machine does not need rest.”

Brownie pursed his lips. “Alright.”

B-52 must be going insane. He wondered if his artificial mind added that mild edge of displeasure to Brownie’s normally soft voice. Or if it was responsible for how sullen he looked in the warm light of the inn room.

Brownie turned away, interrupting that train of thought. He was going to draw a bath and cleanup before he went to sleep, he explained. Before B-52 could even respond, the door had clicked shut behind Brownie.

Something in his chest hurt. It was just some fuel issues, he numbly thought. He could fix it tomorrow morning.

He sat down against one of the walls of the small room. This entire evening was just a series of confusing and puzzling and distressing events. From the beds to Brownie’s behavior, B-52 cursed the inability of his machine mind to comprehend it all.

He didn’t know why Brownie thought that he needed the bed more. Brownie had seen him turn on low power mode, falling into a hibernating state of sorts. That didn’t require a bed, B-52 could do it even standing up.

He felt his head lower to his chest.

If anything, Brownie deserved the bed more. Not just because of B-52’s state. He sincerely didn’t know what would happen if Master Servant didn’t have the ever helpful and ever accommodating Food Soul to aid them. And Master Attendant wasn’t the only one who benefited from Brownie’s help.

Those small moments travelling together on the road, chasing the sun as it rapidly descended. When he unintentionally made Brownie crack up, and he saw his small smile, brighter than any star. When the warmth of that stayed longer than any piece of overheating machinery.

Where, even just for a second, he could forget that he wasn’t worthy of any of this. Where the doubts and the fears left him in peace.

A small warmth alit in him and he smiled.

He was never good with words. So he tried to show how much the other Food Soul meant to him through actions, the only thing he knew how to do.

Perhaps one day he could learn how to say it.

His eyes shut.

—

It seemed like an eternity before there was anything but darkness.

He was standing in a dark room- it looked familiar, though. He turned around. No one was around.

“Hello?” He called out. It echoed out for seconds before it faded.

He took a few steps forward. His body felt unusually heavy.

He continued moving. As he looked around the room, he saw wooden floors.

They looked a lot like… hm. He still couldn’t place his finger on it.

At this point, the silence was getting uncomfortable. It was so quiet he could actually hear his heartbeats.

He stopped. There was something else he was hearing.

Something was slithering in his ears. It felt icy, and it froze his veins as it seeped in.

_“My toy~...”_

He would have recognized that voice from a mile away. He felt a rush of blood in his veins, and a twist in his insides.

_“You really got them all fooled, hm?”_

He couldn’t speak.

_“You got them all convinced that you’re not a monster, you’re not just a killing machine, yes?~”_

He couldn’t breathe.

_“Well, except for one. You.”_

He screwed his eyes shut. The voice only got louder.

_“Everything you’ve done since you’ve left me was a lie, and you know it.”_

His blood was screaming now. He could hear each beat of his heart, sending a wailing rush of liquid each time, he desperately wondered how he could even hear Spaghetti.

_“You really think you’re anything besides mine? Anything besides the monster’s murder tool?”_

He quickly covered his ears, but his hands… they were wet.

He brushed his fingers against one another. They were slick and sticky, and he could feel places where it thickened.

_“You don’t deserve anything. You can never make up for the lives you ended and the hurt you caused.”_

He was shaking now. He couldn’t resist it. He slowly lifted his eyelids.

His arms, up to the elbow, were covered in red.

Spaghetti’s silky voice slid itself back inside his head, like a needle piercing through flesh.

_“No one but me will ever care for you. And you threw away your only chance.”_

He sank down to his knees. The voices multiplied.

_“You can’t pretend you’re a good person forever”_

_“You’ll crack and then everyone will see true you”_

_“That you’re nothing but a fake, a pretender, who wants to play being human”_

_“It’s only a matter of time.”_

He recognized the place now. It was where his Master Attendant was killed.

Where he had made his first kill.

Even if he wanted to shout back, he was trembling so much that he couldn’t. His throat had closed itself and his nails were digging into his palm and if only he could just-

_“B-52?”_

A quiet voice broke past all the others.

It was different from all the rest- and yet, it was familiar. He weakly lifted up his head. There was nothing in front of him.

 _“B-52?”_ It called out again.

He blinked. Where was it coming from? It didn’t slip into his mind, festering like the others, but it was almost... recognizable.

 _“Please, wake up!”_ It had a pleading, desperate tone now.

And then all of the darkness and the voices rushed past him.

He opened his eyes. It was as dark as it was inside his mind, but he could see Brownie’s frame, sitting up on the bed.

Gods, he felt disgusting- his stomach felt so tight and wound up that the slightest movement would upset it. He blinked again. Brownie came into focus, and now he could see the moonlight reflect off his worried eyes. The pain dug itself deeper.

He opened his mouth. It felt thick and dry.

“It’s nothing-”

He was cut off by how wobbly his voice came out. Gods, he hated how unsteady he sounded, machines weren’t supposed to waver, machines always did what they had to and never looked-

“B-52.”

He had heard that so many times, and yet each time his heart always faltered, failing him.

In a gentle, soothing tone, Brownie said, “Come rest here. I don’t mind.”

Machines weren’t supposed to be with humans.

Machines weren’t supposed to ache for human touch.

Machines weren’t supposed to need anything besides fuel and orders.

But in the late night, where he felt the dried tears on his cheeks, the dull pain of his chest cavity, B-52 didn’t care about what machines were supposed to be.

He barely registered his movement as he slid under the blankets, so unbelievably, unimaginably soft and warm.

Brownie shifted, making room for him. He wanted to apologize for his wings, so awkward and unwieldy.

But then, he felt Brownie’s hand trace down his arm, and slowly clasp his ungloved hand.

He held onto it like a lifeline.

—

B-52 didn’t remember what he dreamed about the rest of the night. But he did remember that when he woke up next morning, he had wrapped his arms around Brownie. And how peaceful Brownie looked as his chest rose up and down. And how much his heart warmed at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally i caved in and made this fic into one of the 25 bb52 fics in the fandom haha


	11. PasteldeNataxNapoleonCake (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from imagine-food-souls I'm uploading here for posterity

Napoleon tiptoed down the hallway, listening carefully for anyone else’s presence. When he heard none, he snuck further and further down the hallways.

Finally, he knew that he reached the kitchen when he felt the wood under his bare feet turn into cold tiles.

He didn’t want to risk getting caught, so he decided to keep the lights off.

This turned out to be easier said than done, as soon as he bumped his hip into a counter and winced.

He knew that the sugar jar was stored somewhere around the counters. He felt around the countertops (he really hoped that the stovetop had cooled down…).

His hand bumped into something that felt like it was made of glass. He felt it and the familiar cylindrical shape came to him. A Cheshire grin formed on his face.

His hand gripped the lid, preparing to open it, when suddenly, the darkness disappeared, and Napoleon found himself staring face to face with Pastel de Nata.

Merde. He’d forgotten that Nata often woke up at odd hours.

“Are you stealing sugar again?” Nata looked intensely tired, and he sounded like that too.

“…Maybe.”

Nata only sighed, before walking over and wrenching the sugar jar out of the Napoleon’s hand, to much protest.

“I’m suffering withdrawal here!” Napoleon whined, with wide eyes.

“Napoleon, no.” Nata muttered. “Was your sugar craving so bad that you’re resorting to common thievery?”

“Obviously!” Napoleon pouted. “We were fighting non-stop, all day! I didn’t even have any time to buy a snack!”

He held his arms up in dramatic pose, and continued his tale of woe. “By the time we got back, Master Attendant told us to quietly go to sleep since we were so late!”

“And now this is the fate I have been consigned to,” he wiped away a fake tear. “My only wish is to be left alone to my shame, ~~and also my sugar~~.”

Nata just slapped his forehead, turning away. Looks like his Seduction move didn’t work.

Napoleon was to trying to work on looking sorry for himself, watching Nata’s back bend down and rummage around in the cabinets.

Wait, what was Nata up to?

Nata pulled out a bag of flour, and dropped it on the countertop with a thump.

“What are you doing?” Napoleon furrowed his brow.

“Baking.” Nata answered, like it was the most natural thing to do.

If it had been anyone else, Napoleon would have gleefully clapped and sat back, awaiting the treats.

But it was not anyone else, and “not anyone else” was currently rubbing his dark eyes and sleepily cursing under his breath as he got out pans and measuring cups.

“Nata, aren’t you tired?” Napoleon eyed him with a concerned face.

“Yes.” Nata sharply responded.

“Then-“ he paused. If Nata was anything, he was stubborn as hell. “Nata, you don’t have to act like my actual sugar daddy.”

”Well, you ask for sugar, and what do you expect?” Nata gave him a very exasperated glare.

“But I don’t want you to drive yourself into the ground for me,” Napoleon protested.

Nata stopped busying himself with cooking materials to cross his arms across his chest.

“Napoleon, I’m just doing something simple for you. If it were anybody else, you would have no problem.”

Nata knew him too well. He sighed. “You’re right, but… Nata. I don’t want you to put my whims in front of your needs.”

He picked at his sleeve. “I would never want that.”

Nata’s face softened.

“I… appreciate that.” A small smile curved through Nata’s lips, and Napoleon felt a warm feeling bloom in his chest.

“At your pleasure. Does this mean I can have the sugar jar back-“

He was cut off by Nata leaning down and planting a kiss on his lips.

“No boyfriend of mine is going to eat plain sugar if I have anything to do with it.” Nata whispered through the kiss. “And that’s a need.”

Nata’s lips were never sweet. They were soft and irresistible, but they always tasted more like flour and cloves than sugar. Oddly enough, they remained Napoleon’s favorite delicacy.


	12. CrabLongBaoxXiaoLongBao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before y’all fucking eviscerate me I’m just saying- it is not canon that crab long and xiao long bao are brothers. Reading their dialogue and their backstories, there’s is no evidence that either of them have a brother like relationship. You can headcanon them as brothers, but I just happen not to. So please don’t eat my ass I beg  
> ALSO: before you read this i recommend you read crab's back story linked here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/10lhhOjDnFN8P6sViWuNJBxktXOItXepVTZodvWcTLMI/edit?usp=sharing  
> SPOILERS FOR CRAB'S BACK STORY

If Tortoise Jelly hadn’t vaguely threatened his extremities, Crab Long Bao doubted he would be here today. 

He suppressed another yawn as the opera singer warbled, spouting off about something about the Great Jade Emperor’s benevolence and wisdom.

He silently gave thanks that the high note he expected did not come. His ears had already taken too much pain in one night. 

“Crab, how are you holding up?” 

He turned away from blankly staring at the extravagantly costumed singers to Long Bao. 

Long Bao’s large eyes blinked back at him. The Food Soul had exchanged his normal style for letting his pale hair fall loose on his shoulders. He looked good, Crab numbly thought. 

“Haven’t fallen asleep yet,” Crab tiredly grinned, picking at the collar of his formal suit, which Plum Juice insisted he wear. 

Long Bao covered his mouth, masking a snort. “Barely. I’m fairly certain you were on the verge of drooling during the last one.”

He laughed. “I was almost there. Plum managed to shake me back into consciousness, unfortunately.”

“I heard the commotion.” Long Bao hummed, and turned back to the stage. 

The opera play was hardly half way through, he thought. But he already felt like he had been stuck inside the stuffy opera house for centuries. This did not bode well for an immortal Food Soul like him.

He looked back to Long Bao. Without his hair ties, he didn’t look as much as a rabbit as he normally did. On one hand, there was a novelty to seeing him like this- his locks lightly drifting across his chest. On the other hand, something felt empty without his rabbit resemblance.

Long Bao was staring at the heavily garbed singers. To the average onlooker, he would have looked marginally more invested than Crab was in the show. But Crab knew that from the flitting of his eyes, to the slight twitches of his hand, and the slouching of his back that Long Bao was as bored out of his mind as he was.

He made his decision then. 

Holding out a hand to the other Food Soul, he quietly said, “Come on Long Bao, let’s blow this joint.” 

“Now?” Long Bao’s eyebrows shot up. “…you realize we’re still next to Plum, right?”

“I don’t think Plum Juice’s going to notice. He’s… quite focused on that performance.”

They both looked at Plum Juice. The white haired Food Soul looked so intensely fixated that his eyes might have burned a hole into the stage. 

Crab stomped on the floor. Plum Juice didn’t even blink. 

He beamed back at Long Bao. “He knows we didn’t want to come here- so let’s do him a favor and get outta here.”

Long Bao looked like he wanted to rebuttal Crab’s words, how they couldn’t be so rude and ditch the man, how were they even going to escape from the enormous opera house, and how Tortoise Jelly had threatened them to be on their best behavior. But he sighed, and it all disappeared. 

“I thought you would never ask.” He flashed a small smile, and Crab felt his heart skip a beat. 

Long Bao must have been even more desperate to get out, as before he could even register anything, Long Bao grabbed his hand, and suddenly, they were rushing out of the door and down the dark stairs.

He started laughing. “Long Bao, race you down there!” He let go of his hand, and leapt forward, far ahead.

“Crab, you’re going to fall down at this rate!”

“No I’m not!” He then leaped down several steps, nearly knocking himself down. “Long Bao, face me you coward!”

He looked back. Long Bao was intently pursing his lips, a look of careful focus in his eyes. And then he leaped onto the thin rail that accompanied the stairs, and began sliding down at an impossible pace. 

“Catch me if you can!” He whooped, leaving Crab behind. 

—-

He and Long Bao were now sitting in one of the trees in the orchard outside. 

After an extremely slapstick sequence in which Crab leapt onto the other rail, he slammed through the door at the bottom with a raucous boom. Normally, Long Bao would have been mortified, apologizing nonstop to everyone for the accident. 

Except that when he slid down and saw Crab’s legs waving wildly as they stuck out of the door, even he couldn’t help but break down guffawing. So there they were there, cry laughing for a solid minute as the finely dressed patrons of the opera house milled about them and gave them glares of varying degrees of disgust and confusion. 

When they had finally managed to get Crab out of the door, leaving behind an obnoxiously large hole, they snuck out of one of the many windows of the opera house and into the nearby orchard that decorated its grounds. 

“...Tortoise Jelly is going to kill us for ruining these.” Long Bao looked at the rip he just tore into the knee of the pants. 

“I would prefer that over listening to that stupid opera any second longer.” Crab replied, as he began to climb higher into the tree. 

Long Bao began to smile, before he stopped himself. 

“Do you hear that?”

Crab Long Bao stopped his scampering to listen. 

There was someone playing in the orchard, he realized.

The soft, distant sounds of strumming floated through the trees, and the dense foliage only muted all other noise. 

The mysterious musician gently stroked and bounced against the strings of a guzheng, letting each note echo. 

He closed his eyes. This kind of music always had a peculiar effect on him. The guzheng’s melody was indeed beautiful, but he always felt a strange sort of melancholy. 

“What a lovely song.” Long Bao murmured. “It’s much better than that droning tune inside.”

Crab Long Bao snickered. They both let the silence hang, filled by the swells of the music. 

“She would have loved this.” He softly said. 

Long Bao turned to him, face illuminated by the dying light of the dusk. 

“...she would have.” He quietly replied. 

The musician was singing now, he dimly perceived. 

A faint, mellow voice reverberated through the trees. 

A  _ farewell song I bestow _

_ Upon the evening afterglow _

_ In the end I just can’t forget _

_ My hopes and dreams that were never met _

His chest aches. She would have loved the song. She would have loved the orchard, and the opera house, and everything. But just like the singer said. There was so much she would never see.

He felt a hand tenderly lay on his shoulder. He turned to see Long Bao’s quiet eyes. 

“Crab?”

“I’m fine,” he mustered up a small smile. “I just… sometimes wish she could have seen what else the world had to offer.”

“So do I.” Long Bao closed his eyes, and leaned his head on Crab’s shoulder. “All of us do.”

There was only the rich notes of the song between them for a while, before Long Bao broke the silence.

“My Master Attendant once said this to me.” Long Bao whispered.  _ “It’s the end of the melody, and everyone leaves.” _

“For humans, everything comes to an end eventually.” He traced circles in Crab’s hand. “But I think it still applies to us. All that truly stays after the ache of time is our memories.”

“So I think you shouldn’t regret that she is gone, but instead, celebrate the memories.” He murmured, with a slight smile on his lips. “Celebrate all that she has done and all that she did.”

Something prickled in Crab’s eyes. He chuckled. He wasn’t sure if he was crying or laughing.

“She deserves that. Thank you, Long Bao.” He buried his face into Long Bao’s hair, and lost himself in Long Bao’s hushed, tender words. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in here is Melody's End! You can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYjbRaLA16Y  
> NEXT PAIRING TO WRITE: PEKING DUCK X YUXIANG


	13. YuxiangxPekingDuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally the first straight ship to show up in this fic aghghsghasghdff

The first time they had conversed, the darkness of the cellar covered his face in shadows. Only his monocle caught the glint of the lamp. If it weren’t for her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed that he  was wryly smiling as the bodies of men lay around them.

The second time they had conversed, she was watching the rising sun wash over the charred ruins of an entire country, along with her form slowly fading away.

And before she knew it, she wasn’t. Her spiritual essence wasn’t waning, she wasn’t finally passing on to join her Master Attendant. Instead, she only felt ice cold shock as Peking pulled the glittering stone from his breast pocket, his mischievous expression finally dropping to one of solemnity.

For all the destruction he had just wrought, for all the death he had just brought, it was only when he was giving life that he finally discarded his impish smile. It was something Yuxiang would later look back on with a note of macabre amusement.

“This isn’t a request. This is an order.”

Still, any self respecting Food Soul would have wondered why. Why bother keeping her, a Food Soul lacking in power and strength? How did her presence further his goals?

It would take her many years of travels, weeks of travelling, and careful plans of sabotage before she understood.

Nothing cemented bonds better than shared pain.

Of course, her services as an investigator and archivist were certainly useful, and she wasn’t dead weight, despite her earliest protests. But, a primary reason why he refused to let her die was not concerned with his goal.

It was the desperation of lonely man. Of someone who knew his fire and destruction was only the culmination of a long road of isolation. Of someone who, in some small part, was trying to reverse that, trying to form a connection once more.

She had yet to decide if he had truly succeeded in that regard. After all, she saw the placid smiles, the detached eyes, and the calculated gaze.

“Just relax and have fun!” She recalls Bamboo Rice once telling Peking Duck.

Peking only took an inhale of his pipe, his small smile never dropping, “No need for that. I always find some fun, Bamboo Rice.”

Perhaps she was looking too much into everything, but she thinks it’s a coping mechanism. When one has lost everything, one learned to treat nothing as sacred.

There were a few times where his facade cracked, though.

She had been sorting through various papers, trying to surmise the location of their next target. When all of the sudden, she heard Hawthorne Ball laughing in the other room. That was nothing unusual. What was unusual was that Peking’s quiet chuckle joining in. Was that a hint of embarrassment she heard in there?

She quietly got up from her work desk to spy on the two.

Instead of Peking’s customary braid, his hair was now in long pigtails, tied up in colorful bows. His monocle was lying off to the side, next to some flower hair pins.

Hawthorne giggled, jumping up and down. “You’re so pretty, Peking big brother!”

Peking had an uncharacteristically bashful smile. “I suppose I would have always made for a lovely maiden.” He hummed, wrapping a strand of hair around his fingers.

“Can I please put some of Yuxiang big sister’s lipstick on you?” Hawthorne begged. “She won’t let me wear any, she says I’m too young!’

If Yuxiang had blinked, she might have missed the split second expression of shock and fear on Peking’s face. It quickly went back to his customary smile.

“Sure. Just don’t let her know okay?”

Hawthorne started cheering, and Yuxiang was barely able to press herself to the wall and hide as the young Food Soul ran out, looking for the makeup item.

“I know you’re there, Yuxiang.”

Perceptive as always. She stepped into the doorway.

“I think the hair suits you. You should wear it like that more often.”

There was still a hint of that earlier vulnerability as Peking picked at his pigtails, chuckling. “Really? But what would the others say?”

She laughed. “I don’t think they’ll mind. After all, you and Plum tolerate Bamboo Rice’s mane.”

Peking snorted. “The difference between me and Bamboo Rice are many, Yuxiang.”

She shrugged. “Still.” She leaned down at peered at him. Hawthorne did a surprisingly good job, but Peking’s left pigtail was bound too high.

“Don’t fidget.” She untied the bow. “Your pigtails are lopsided.”

“Ah, but I think that just adds to the charm~”

She sat behind him to properly fix his hair. “I wouldn’t call it charm,” she replied, running her fingers through his tawny locks. “More like… unrefined disarray.”

He laughed. “You never know, some may find that charming.”

“Let us hope that they never encounter you, then.”

“Harsh words, Yuxiang.”

She hummed only a reply, focusing on tying the pink bow. When she was done, she got up to admire her handiwork. “I really wish we had one of those light machines from Parisel to document this.”

For a moment, the always pleasant smile Peking wore twitched.

“If that ever occurred, I would find and destroy every one of them.”

She snickered. “How would you find and locate all of those machines? Without my aid?”

Peking got up from the ground. “Bold of you to assume that I can’t fend for myself without you.”

She smirked. “Not assume. Know.”

Before the "disagreement" could continue, Hawthorne came in with the tube of bright red lipstick. Her face paled when she saw Yuxiang. “Eh?! Yuxiang big sister?!?”

“It’s alright Hawthorne,” she turned away from Peking to her. “I want to see Peking big brother with lipstick too.”

Hawthorne let out a breath of relief, before her eyes lit up again. “...can I apply it?”

Only she could see the glint of disgruntlement in his eye, warning her against such an agreement.

Maybe he did succeed in learning how to bond, like he did so many years ago. She smiled. “Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN A WHILE INKTOBER KICKED MY ASS AND THEN SCHOOL KICKED MY ASS AAAAAAAAAA  
> IM ALSO SORRY THAT THIS ISNT REALLY EXPLICITLY ROMANTIC EITHER HHHHHHHHHHHH  
> might have to turn off requests soon due to school..... please take that into consideration if you want to request!!  
> next up: sanma x tempura!


	14. WhiskeyxSpaghetti

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dabs guess what i lied  
> again literally no one asked for this

It was both shocking and expected. Spaghetti wanted weapons. Whiskey wanted guinea pigs. So their partnership should have been expected. Yet, one could not help but feel disturbed anyway. 

Both were happy to provide the other with what they needed- Spaghetti could teach foolish humans a lesson through Whiskey, and Whiskey was more than delighted to spend his days discovering horrific poisons, each crueler than the last. This marriage between twisted ambition and vicious brutality was truly a divine match (or hellish, depending on who you asked).

Those who had seen the Food Souls together remarked on how amiable the two seemed towards each other- while Spaghetti never spared Whiskey from the treatment of being “his toy,” Whiskey seemed to indulge him, calling him “my king,” among other such names. 

Of course, combining forces did not solve all of their problems. On this particular day, Spaghetti found out that a mission had gone awry after a familiar mechanical Food Soul had intervened.

Ink splashed around its bottle when he slammed a fist down on his desk.  _ “ _ I will  _ tear out  _ that machine’s cords and hang him like a lamb.” The red haired Food Soul seethed, crushing the offending letter into a shadow of itself.

Whiskey, who had been perusing the books in a nearby shelf, gave Spaghetti little more than a curious glance.

Spaghetti flung the letter into the trash bin, glaring at it as if it were B-52 himself. Which, in Spaghetti’s mind, there was little distinction between the two. The only difference between B-52 and a trash bin was that a trash bin did its job, getting rid of trash. 

“Gods, I’ll make him choke on his own fuel and die miserably. I should have known better than to ever use that confounded contraption.” Another long string of creatively worded profanities flowed out of his mouth.

He was so engrossed in cursing out the mechanical Food Soul and every single living being that ever had a modicum of empathy for the blasted machine, that he hadn’t noticed that the other Food Soul had draped himself over Spaghetti’s frame.

He failed to notice until he felt Whiskey’s breath on his neck. With a dangerous look in his eye, he glared at the other man, luxuriously leaning on his shoulder. 

“What do you think you’re doing,  _ toy _ ?” There was a menacing note to the way he said that last word, but Whiskey didn’t seem affected.

“Dear King, have you ever considered that such foul language is unbefitting of someone your stature?” Whiskey murmured, his fingers playing with Spaghetti’s earring tassel. The frame of his glasses caught the glint of the light, almost daring Spaghetti to counter.

Spaghetti would not lower himself like that. He knew how to punish toys that were out of their place. “Merchant, you’re speaking out of your place here. I believe that deserves a punishment.” He angled Whiskey’s face upwards with a gloved finger, bringing the two of them dangerously close.

Whiskey raised an eyebrow at their new position- and chuckled. “Oh? Won’t you let me defend myself first? A subject deserves a fair trial after all.”

Spaghetti pressed his lips together, unimpressed. “While I’m curious to see how you could accomplish such a thing, a king must assert himself. Don’t push your luck.”

“Don’t be so hasty, my king.” Whiskey cooed. “I can accomplish many things.”

Spaghetti scoffed. While he couldn’t deny that he was vaguely intrigued by whatever Whiskey had in mind, he knew better than to let his guard down. Even for someone as compelling as the drink Food Soul.

But the next thing he knew, what little distance there was between them had vanished into thin air.

Whiskey’s mouth was on his, and his senses were flooded with the smell of chlorine and disinfectant. Yet somehow, he didn’t find the smell repulsive. The other man’s lips felt cool against his own, and Spaghetti could hear his pulse dangerously quickening. 

He was kissing back, he numbly realized, and Whiskey was wrapping his arms around his neck. The shorter Food Soul tangled his hands in his hair, and each time he grazed Spaghetti’s scalp, it sent shivers down his back. 

A small, pathetic noise came out of him. Whiskey caught his eye. The damn bastard  _ smirked. _

He couldn’t take that. He  _ wouldn’t _ . He pushed deeper into the kiss, pinning Whiskey against the desk and eliciting a sharp exhale from the other man. 

If it weren’t for the rush of blood in his ears, he could have sworn that he heard a small chuckle from the other Food Soul. He didn’t care, he had other matters to attend to. Like how Whiskey’s hands were everywhere. They skimmed over his chest and his torso and each time they found bare skin, they left a trail of fire behind them. 

By the time they pulled away from each other, it would have been wrong to call him anything but a disheveled mess.

He dimly touched his own face. It was hot to the touch and judging by Whiskey’s look of amusement, it made for quite the sight too. 

“So? Have I argued my case well, Dear King?” Whiskey winked, looking greatly entertained. 

“I-” He coughed, his voice didn’t have nearly the same force as before. Gods, how despicable.

Whiskey had the  _ audacity  _ to laugh. “You make quite the debater, you know.” He placed a finger on his chin, pretending to looking thoughtful. 

Spaghetti could do little but petulantly glare at him. “I’ll reconsider your punishment, Merchant.” He held a steady gaze between them, and wetted his lower lip. “We shall discuss again. Soon.”

Whiskey didn’t look one bit intimidated. “Oh my King, a leader knows when to wait and when to strike. I see you always live up to the expectations~” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably the closest we'll ever get to nsfw in this fic so enjoy it while you can folks  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO BETA READ THIS CHAPTER FOR ME YOU GUYS THE REAL MVPS  
> any way this time for realsies: sanma x tempura next!


	15. SanmaxTempura

“Hey Sanma!”

Sanma Shioyaki paused, stopping his evening raking to see who was calling out his name. 

His eyes were greeted by a Tempura eagerly waving to him as he bounded over. Sanma gave him a small wave back too, shyly smiling. 

Tempura grinned back, and closed the distance between in a few large leaps. “Sanma! Check out what Sukiyaki gave me!”

He pulled a stack of cards from behind his back, and showed them to Sanma with a flourish. 

The cards were slightly faded and worn, but the beauty of the colors and strokes were quite apparent. On one card, there was a painting of a city of ivory white buildings, flanked by the azure sky and seas. In a corner, the word “Hilena” was written in beautiful calligraphy. Another displayed a drawing of a temple atop a mountain, shrouded in misty clouds. 

Sanma flipped through the cards. They seemed to be miniature paintings, designed to capture the beauty of the world in little mementos.

As he looked through, Sanma felt a faint sense of longing. While he was more than content with running his school and taking care of the children, there was a part of him that wished to see what else the world outside of Sakurajima had to offer.

He looked up to curiously gaze at Tempura. “How did you get these?”

“I think an inn guest gave them to Sukiyaki!” Tempura leaned in closer, with little regard for the other Food Soul’s personal space. “I overheard Sukiyaki saying he didn’t need souvenirs like this.”

“Apparently, the guest said they came from a very famous Food Soul artist, who no one has ever seen!” Tempura placed his chin on his hand, looking exaggeratedly thoughtful.

“A Food Soul artist? How do they know its a Food Soul?”

“I don’t know!” Tempura brightly answered. “I didn’t ask Sukiyaki, haha~”

Sanma could only chuckle at Tempura. “Why did you accept them then? I never thought you were an artistic type.”

Tempura hummed, shrugging. “Well, I’m not, but I thought you would be!” He laughed. “I wanted to get you something, and I asked Sukiyaki if I could have them instead!”

“Oh.” Sanma felt his face flush. “...Thank you for thinking of me, Tempura.”

He carefully placed the cards in his pocket, making sure not to crumple or fold them. “I think the students will enjoy more pictures of the outside world. Come, sit down and relax, I think I have some rice cakes.” 

Sanma turned to enter back into the house, before pausing. “I didn’t expect you to come back so early. Does Sukiyaki no longer need you?”

“Ah, no! They let me come back here for a bit!” Tempura replied cheerily. “They said I should go back and say hi to you and the kids before rush season starts!”

“Oh.” He ignored the pang in his chest.

Tempura was right, of course. It would soon be very busy for Sukiyaki and his inn, as autumn was the prime time for pilgrims to travel to the nearby religious sites. The Hongye Inn would need as much help as they could get. He tried his best to quash how strangely disappointed he was. 

He came back with the plate, handing it over to Tempura. “Sorry that they’re just leftovers, I would have-”

Sanma was cut off by Tempura stuffing the cakes into his mouth by the fistful. 

“...nevermind.” He smiled. Well, he just had to appreciate what time he did get with the other Food Soul.

He sat down besides Tempura on the porch. A soft breeze blew over, stirring his leaf pile and warning of the coming cold. 

The relative quiet between them was broken when Tempura lifted his head up from the plate to muffle through a mouth full of sweet rice. “Sanma! These are really good! Did you use a new recipe?!”

“Ah, no, I’m afraid not. Strawberry Daifuku actually made them.” 

Well, Strawberry Daifuku just sprinkled the sugar on top, because the last time he let her make dessert, Dorayaki had almost keeled over. 

Tempura didn’t seem to remember the child Food Soul’s cooking abilities, only eagerly nodding as he popped the last cake in his mouth. “I have to tell her how fantastic they are then!”

“Of course,” Sanma chuckled. “Maybe after she’s done with her nap, though.”

He watched a crimson maple leaf drift down. “Tempura, did anything else special happen at Sukiyaki’s?”

Tempura straightened up, his eyes lighting up. “Oh tons!”

“So, first,” Tempura thumped his chest, trying to make the last rice cake go down faster. “We saw another guest with some really weird looking clothes, like the kind we saw in that story book from Gloriville!” 

“Mmhmm.” Sanma nodded. “The gold trim and buttons?”

“Yeah! And then I talked a lot about it with Udon and Ume and after that they asked me if I knew what updog was and I didn’t and did you know that…”

Sanma rested his cheek against his hand. Tempura was continue to talk away, excitedly moving his hands and arms to emphasize his every point and conjecture, lost within his own world. 

Well, he supposed he was lost in his own world too. That world just happened to be orbiting around none other than Tempura. 

Tempura may have not been known for his succinctness, but Sanma could and would have listened to him for hours on end. 

Some of Tempura’s hair had escaped from his headband, he noticed. For some reason, he felt unreasonably perturbed by it. 

“Do you know what I mean, Sanma?” 

His thoughts came to a halt as Tempura staring at him with expectant eyes. 

He blinked, before snapping to attention. “Oh, yes. Yes, I do.”

“Great! So, then I…”

Sanma shook his head a little bit. What was wrong with him? He thought himself to be a good listener, and yet, look at him, spacing out while listening to Tempura of all people. 

But… He glanced back up at the escaping wisp of hair. It really was irrational how much it was distracting him. 

_ If it irritates you so much, _ a small voice muttered inside,  _ then you should do something about it. _

Maybe he would.

He softly brushed the stray strand of hair behind Tempura’s ear, his hand lingering on the other man’s cheek. 

“Eh?” Tempura stopped chattering to look at him with a confused grin. 

Sanma blankly stared back. And then, it suddenly hit him what he had just done. 

His cheeks felt like they were burning as he quickly pulled away. “Ah! I-It’s nothing! I’m so sorry Tempura, I- I just-” 

Tempura laughed. “Don’t worry so much Sanma! I know, there was something on my face right?”

“...What?”

Tempura clapped him on the back, grinning. “Yeah, Ume had told me to be more clean when I eat, but I guess I still had some stuff on there!”

Sanma incredulously murmured, “...I suppose you could say that.” Nevermind the fact that it would be next to impossible for a grain of rice to somehow end up on one’s cheekbone. 

Tempura gave him a big thumbs up, winking. “Thanks for keeping an eye out for me again!”

Before Sanma could even process Tempura’s mile-a-minute logic, the other Food Soul had already leapt up, excitedly grinning. “Come on! Let’s go find Miso! I only have a little bit of time before I have to leave!” 

Tempura was looking at him again with those same anticipative eyes, shining like the first stars of the evening. 

Slowly, Sanma got up too. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” He paused. “We should find him.”

Tempura turned to walk away, but not before Sanma’s hand reached out and took his own. 

“Huh?” Tempura looked back, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“Tempura, I just… Just don’t stay away too long.” Sanma squeezed Tempura’s hand, his eyes glued to the floor. “We… I like seeing you.”

Tempura blinked, before chuckling. “Sanma, I promise that I won’t stay away any longer than I have to! And thanks, I like seeing you too!”

Sanma could feel that familiar sensation of his heart wrenching. Again, the Food Soul ignored it and followed Tempura as he bounded away in the cool autumn breeze, trailed by red maple leaves.

He really did look beautiful like this, Sanma thought. A head full of wind tossed hair, framed by dusk’s dying light. It was almost unfair how resplendent Tempura looked, haloed by the setting sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooof its finals season for me so there won't be an update next monday like I've been doing until like the week after next week or later sorry!!!  
> next up: mute! eggette x jiuniang!! (sry it took me forever aru........)


	16. Mute!EggettexJiuniang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEAH BOIS IM BACK  
> (background yellowsake!)
> 
> For lovely LadyAru~~

Sometimes, it was hard to remember just how gorgeous the world could be. Very rarely, did Jiuniang stop her rush from town to town, battlefield to battlefield. Seldom did she find herself sitting alone in the Gloriville forests she, Yellow Wine, and Sake had stopped in. 

Originally, she hadn’t been alone. Sake had been humming as he brushed her hair, waiting for Yellow to return from his scouting. He wasn’t as experienced as Yellow was, but he had a good eye for beauty. 

But she knew something was off when Sake paused in his humming. When she turned her head, he was looking concernedly at the direction Yellow had headed off into. 

“What are you looking at?”

“Ah… it’s nothing, don’t worry, Jiuniang.” He reassured her with a smile, and returned to brushing her hair. 

But it wasn’t nothing, because Sake had stopped humming. For a while, they sat in expectant silence, punctuated only by the sounds of a far off river and the chirps of songbirds. 

Sake’s hands stopped. “Jiuniang, I’m going to go look for Yellow Wine.”

She turned. “Alright. Let’s go find Yellow Wine gege together.”

His brows furrowed. “Jiuniang… I would prefer if you would stay here.”

Jiuniang’s face dropped. “But… but I can take care of myself. Besides, isn’t it safe?” 

“Perhaps this area was more dangerous than we thought.” Sake pursed his lips, looking characteristically contemplative. “I’m just… worried that that Yellow may have encountered some difficulties.”

They both knew what Sake meant by difficulties. Fallen Angels. 

Jiuniang was aware she was something of a worryhead. She couldn’t help but fret for Yellow Wine, even if she knew well that he was a strong Food Soul, who could more than protect himself from any marauders. 

But still. Yellow Wine was only one Food Soul, and who knew what was in the forests?

Fate must have known her thoughts, because suddenly, she heard a distant crash. Sounds of trees splitting and cracking followed, and she whipped her head back to Sake. His normally placid face had given way to one of fear.

“Jiuniang, stay right there.” Sake turned to run towards the commotion. But, before he could, her hand reached out and grabbed his dark blue robes. 

“Jiuniang?” 

“Let me go with you! Please, I want to help!” She desperately cried, feeling tears prickling at the edge of her eyes. “You and Yellow have been training me, you know I can fight!”

Sake’s face looked pained. “Jiuniang, Yellow would never forgive me if I put you in this kind of danger.”

He drew her into a tight hug. “And neither would I.” 

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry, and balled her small hands up. If only she could do something,  _ anything _ . 

Sake unwrapped his arms from her, standing up. “Promise me you’ll stay here?” He intently held the gaze between them. 

There was a pause. Then, she silently nodded back. 

The taller Food Soul wearily smiled, and patted her hair. “Thank you.” 

Jiuniang could only blankly stare after Sake’s retreating form as he disappeared into the forests.

She knew that Sake and Yellow Wine would never leave her behind, but why did it feel like they were?

She buried her head in her knees, and started yanking grass blades out of the ground to distract herself. None of it worked because she felt bad for ripping the poor grass out of its home and stopped. 

Her lower lip was trembling, she realized. Frustratedly, she grabbed the edges of her hood and yanked them down, trying to hide herself away. She couldn’t do anything right. She never could. After all, wasn’t that why her Master Attendant had been taken away? 

She squeezed her eyes shut. And then stopped. 

There was something… off. There were noises again, but they weren't the ferocious sounds of a far off Fallen Angel. They were nearby, and much less loud. Like someone was trying to be silent. 

She heard the quiet snap of a twig. Someone was coming. She lifted the hood up. Cautiously, she scanned the area, steeling herself ready for any attackers. She slowly got up.

Some part of her froze when she realized the noises were getting louder. She listened carefully for where it seemed to be coming from. 

And then, trying her best to not cause a commotion, she tiptoed over to a bush that seemed to be the source. As quickly as she could, she pushed the bushes back to reveal the intruder. “Who’s there?!” 

That turned out to be a good question. Because the intruder was… not what she had expected. Instead of a minor Fallen Angel, a small boy (a Food Soul, she realized) in a cape and and shorts was staring back at her in equal shock. He had raised his staff in a defensive position, just as ready as Jiuniang had been. 

“Oh… h-hello?” She croaked out. 

The Food Soul carefully lowered the staff, tilting his head. Then, he slowly raised his hand to wave a little at her. 

“So... so you’re a F-Food Soul, right?” Jiuniang asked. 

He nodded back. 

Jiuniang nervously bobbed her head up and down too, and then she realized that she was keeping him trapped in the foliage. 

“Ah…! S-sorry, I’ll let you get out of the b-bushes now…” She backed away, letting him untangle himself out of the shrubs. 

When he was free, she snuck curious looks at his face, in between keeping her eyes glued to the floor. “Uh-uhm, w-what’s your name?”

The boy paused, looking thoughtful. Then, his eyes lit up, and he pointed his staff down and started drawing something in the dirt… a circle? 

She peered at it closer. No, it was something else, more like oval… “An egg?” She looked back at the boy. “Is… is your name Egg?”

The boy hesitated, and then shrugged and nodded.

What an odd name. Although, given their nature as Food Souls, it technically was only a matter of time before she encountered the Food Soul of eggs.

She wondered, what kind of eggs were he?

Her train of thoughts was stopped when she felt something poking behind her boots. When she looked down, she moved her foot aside to see. 

“Ah!” A little yellow chick stared back at her, curious. She carefully knelt down. 

“H-hi…” She cupped her hands together, expectantly placing them in front of it. “How are you?”

The chick took a look at her, before taking a hesitant step onto her hand. It then peeped back at her and she giggled. She looked back at Egg, looking a note more nervous. “Do they belong to you?”

Egg nodded, and then, weakly whistled. Suddenly, several more chicks came running forwards. 

“Wow!” 

Again, the chick peeped excitedly from her hand. Was it… waving? With its wing?  

She and Egg sat down on soft grass, surrounded by the softly chirping birds. The one in her hand jumped out, much to her surprise, to join the others. 

She couldn’t help but smile at it hop around with the others. Turning to Egg, she said,

“U-um, If you don’t mind me asking me, why can you not… talk?”

Egg was expressionless for a second, before he gestured towards his throat, and rasped out,  _ “Throat… hurt.” _

“O-oh.” Jiuniang’s face flushed. She suddenly felt very silly and rude for asking such a tactless question, using her hood’s edge to hide her face and eyes. 

But then, Egg bopped his little flat cap on her head. 

“Huh?!” She blinked, hands up on her head. 

Egg sheepishly smiled at her.  _ “Looked… sad…” _

Jiuniang blushed, and instinctively turned away. “Ah… I-I’m sorry… to make you care for me like this.”

Egg pouted, then grinned as he pulled the hoodie of his cape over his head too. 

“H-Hey,” she laughed. “Is that supposed to be me?”

Egg’s smile mischievously twitched, almost as if he were saying “maybe~”

“Fine, if we’re switching places, then I’m taking your chicks!” Quickly, yet gingerly, she picked up a few chicks and held them closely to her chest. 

Egg shook his fist in mock anger, and waved his staff around. Immediately, bright sparks began to be conjured out. Some fell to the ground soundlessly, but others lingered and burst into a thousand lights, twinkling as they descended. 

“Wow…” It was like the New Year’s show she had seen in the Light Kingdom. She turned and faced Egg. “That’s so cool!”

Egg sheepishly smiled, and did a mock bow. 

She laughed, mouth half covered. “I can do magic too,” 

She closed her eyes, and tried to focus. With her chick-free hand, she imagined pulling air out and into little bubbles. She heard soft popping noises and opened her eyes. Snow white droplets were all around them and the chicks. 

One floated over to Egg, and it burst on his nose, showering him in beads of water. She felt a grin twitch at her lips, and covered her mouth with her hood. 

Egg noticed, and pouted at her as he rapidly blinked water out. But that still didn’t stop his look of impressment, and he grinned as he gave her a round of applause.

Jiuniang felt a flush of pride. She twirled her hands and started conjuring more bubbles, and Egg, besides her, made more sparks to match.

It really was a sight to see. Jiuniang’s translucent bubbles floating idly, lit up by Egg’s sparkling glitter, and below, numerous captivated chicks. They weren’t the only ones. Jiuniang was so preoccupied with staring that she only half noticed the sensation of Egg prodding at her. 

“What is it Egg?”

He pointed towards the trees. 

Rushing out of the forests were Yellow Wine and Sake, (a view that instantly soothed Jiuniang) but they were accompanied by another Food Soul too. She had bright yellow hair, put up in two drill like pigtails, and was dressed in a dazzlingly beautiful dress. 

“Eggette!”

“Jiuniang!”

Egg’s (or Eggette’s, Jiuniang supposed) face broke out into a big grin, and he began to run over to her, trailed by the train of chicks. But then-

“Jiuniang!”

Suddenly, she was attacked from all sides with a squeeze. Yellow Wine was rambling in one ear about how worried he was, how sorry he was that he made her and Sake worry, and Sake was no better, going on and on about how relieved to see her.

“Yellow Wine gege! Sake!” She laughed, warm teardrops trailing down from her eyes. “Not too tightly, I can’t breathe!”

The two Food Souls quickly pulled away with hurried apologies, but their looks of relief and gratitude didn’t diminish. 

Sake slowly leaned in, wiping away the tears on her face. “Jiuniang, I’m so sorry for not letting you fight, I know you truly wanted to prove yourself.” He sighed, looking melancholy. “I just… I just couldn’t bear to think about you getting hurt.”

“It’s okay… I understand.” She wrapped her arms around him, and he gladly returned the gesture. 

Off to the side, Yellow Wine coughed (he had never been the greatest with words).

Jiuniang smiled brightly back at him. “Yellow! You’re fine!”

“Of course I am!” He crossed his arms, trying to look tough. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

She and Sake both laughed, and after a moment, Yellow’s facade broke, and he started laughing too. 

Yellow lowered himself so he and Jiuniang were eye to eye. “Listen… Jiuniang, I, er, understand why you wanted to help, especially with how hardworking you’ve been.”

“But!” He held up a finger. “Me and Sake think you could do with a little more training before you. You’re definitely better at aiming then before, but you still need work on your dodging.”

He stood up, looking stern. “You would have to be willing to train hard, but if you do, we  _ might  _ let you fight next time.”

Jiuniang leaped up too, trying to look as tall as she could. “I promise! I’ll work really, really hard! You’ll see!”

Yellow Wine chuckled, and ruffled up her hair, causing her to giggle and try to bat him away.

“Who is that, though?” She looked over to Eggette, who seemed to be having an embrace of his own with the other Food Soul. 

Yellow Wine’s lips twitched downwards. “Oh.... She’s just another Food Soul.” He made a waving motion with his hand. “Nobody that’s worth thinking about.”

Sake pursed his lips. “Yellow, be nice, we wouldn’t want Jiuniang to get ideas.”

Yellow put his hands up. “Hey, I’m not the only one here, you saw what she was like-”

He didn’t finish because the unknown Food Soul suddenly strutted in between them, causing Yellow’s eyes to narrow together. Eggette trailed not far behind.

“Hello there, darling,” she tossed a long pigtail behind her, and held out a gloved hand. For a moment, Jiuniang almost forgot to shake it, entranced by how frilly and jeweled even her gloves were. 

She took her hand and the other Food Soul winked. “Mango Pudding, fantastic to meet you.” Jiuniang felt starry eyed. Eggette shot a knowing glance her way.

“H-H-Hi…” She averted her eyes, retreating away into her hoodie. 

Mango tittered, looking marvelously amused. “Aw, you’re such a cute thing! Don’t you have anything to say, dear?”

Jiuniang’s face burned up; she wasn’t used to such  _ glamour. _ But...

“What’s… with that?” She gestured towards a rip in Mango’s dress, the only flaw in an otherwise impeccable image. 

Mango Pudding pulled a face and huffed. “It was only because of a  _ certain  _ someone wasn’t careful.” She made it very clear who that certain someone was as she glared at Yellow. 

The certain someone flared up. “That was because  _ you  _ insisted on moving out of position!”

“Insisted? I had to, otherwise I would’ve been crushed by that Uke Mochi!”

“Then be more careful! Stay out of my range, will ya?”

Sake appeared distressed as he tried to calm down Yellow, who looked like he was considering adding a few more bloodstains to his sword. Mango Pudding was also holding her fancy wand in a very threatening fashion, her cute face pulled into a glower.

She turned away from the fomenting fight to Eggette. “Is… Is she always like this?” 

He shrugged, and then waggled his hand for a “sometimes,” before finally sighing and nodding. 

Jiuniang sympathetically patted his back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gege: big brother in chinese
> 
> god did i mention i would like.... actually die for yellow wine and sake's beautiful family?????????
> 
> next up: HamburgerxCola!  
> nobody asked for this but there's like.... five hamcola fics and half of them they're only background SO ITS UP TO ME TO FEED MY OWN DAMN SELF


	17. HamburgerxCola

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> doot doot background steakwine yeaahahhaha babbbyyyyy

It began with an outdoor show, meant to play some of their hottest and latest songs.

It progressed when some Gloriville teens decided to start ramming themselves into each other, creating a mosh pit beyond mortal proportions.

It ended when Hamburger had to pull Cola out of the pit himself when the sky started pouring down sheets of rain, thundering and crackling. The audience scattered, and all of the sudden, Cola found himself being carried bridal style by Hamburger as he ran to find shelter.

Cola shifted his hat (which, annoyingly, the other Food Soul had yanked down to shield his face from the rain) to look at Hamburger.

“Ham!”

“Yeah?!” Hamburger yelled back, apparently oblivious to the copious amounts of water drowning him.

“Where are we going?!”

“Uh, I dunno!”

“ _Ham!_ ”

“Steak’s, I think?”

“Ham, I love you bro, but couldn’t we have just stayed under the stage?!”

“Cola, the stage has no heating! You would have frozen to death, all soaked like this!”

“Oh my god, Hamb, we would have been fine!”

His companion doesn’t reply, only squints his eyes and speeds up a little, jostling Cola even further into his chest. While Cola would have rather died than admit it, Hamburger’s pecs were… not uncomfortable to lean on? _Oh god-_

After what seemed like hours, Hamburger slowed down. Cola looked up, and saw an incredulous looking Steak staring at them across from the door.

“Uhhhh… so our Gloriville tour might be longer than expected?” Cola shrugged apologetically.

Out of nowhere, Red Wine appeared, looking indignated and scandalized. “What in God’s name is this?!”

He shot a look to Steak. “Shouldn’t you, oh, I don’t know, let them in?”

Steak seemed to finally snap out of it and the duo were rushed inside the thankfully dry house.

“Hey? Ham? You can put me down now, you know.”

“Oh! Right!” Hamburger carefully lowered Cola down, letting him regain his footing.

“How did you two end up like this?” Red Wine had an unimpressed look as he brought them a few towels. “I thought you said you’d be departing today.”

Cola hand waved it off as he dried off his hair. “So funny story, we were playing the show _aand then…_ ”

By the end of Cola’s tale of treachery and danger, Steak looked equally disapproving.

“So… you’re telling us that you jumped into a gigantic vortex of humans-“

“Mosh pit,” Cola corrected.

“Mash pot, causing you to be separated from the stage and your equipment, and now you need a place to wait out the storm?”

Cola rolled his eyes. “Tbh, I would have been fine waiting under the stage, but ol’ Ham here,” he elbowed Hamburger. “Insisted on a warmer place to dry out.”

Hamburger sheepishly laughed. “Haha… yeah, I guess I didn’t want to spend hours huddling in a cold, draft room~”

Red Wine rolled his eyes. “It’s nearly eleven, you buffoons, practically a miracle that you navigated here in the downpour.”

He gave a critical look to Cola’s state of appearance. “We have a spare room upstairs, and I’ll give you dry clothes if you two try not to get everything soaked, will you.”

Cola grinned as he gave the thumbs up. “Thank you so much, Wine, you won’t regret it, 100% percent.”

Red Wine rolled his eyes. “I already am. Now get upstairs already, before I change my mind.”

They did indeed get upstairs, and when Cola opened the door to the room, he was greeting with the sexy, sexy sight of two warm, deliciously un-damp beds and a furnace.

He was about to swan leap inside and sleep until the Elves returned, but Hamburger, that omnipresent bro, grabbed a hand out and yanked his hood back.

“Cola, no! Red Wine’s gonna kill us if we get that thing wet!”

Cola pouted. Dramatically sighed, striking a pose. “I think death is worth it in this scenario.” He looked longingly towards the mattress.

Hamburger pouted back, the bastard. He always knew that his puppy face was way more effective.

“I won’t let you die. Who else can give me reasons to be happy everyday?”

Cola blinked. And then he felt his face flush with blood.

He quickly turned away, and covered his face with a hand, a vain attempt to prevent Hamburger from catching how tomato red he was.

“Ham, you softie…” he mumbled from behind his hand.

Hamburger had this ridiculously cheesy smile. “It’s the truth, you know!”

Cola wanted to groan and curl up and perish somewhere very, very far away. But instead, he sighed.

“Well… if you’ll stop me from dying… stop Red Wine from killing me will ya?”

Hamburger’s loosened grip was more than enough to let Cola break free and jump onto the bed, stripping off his jacket mid flight. He and the jacket both landed with a solid thump, on the bed and the floor respectively.

Hamburger rolled his eyes. “Well, at least you took the jacket off.”

Cola grinned and winked back.

“You _could_ help me pick things up and dry our clothes, you know.” Hamburger was walking towards the furnace in the corner, in the process of taking his jacket off.

“Alright, alright, you got it chief.” Cola bounced off, and swiped up the jacket from the ground. Then he found out that maybe trying to spread a thigh length jacket on an already small furnace was likely a futile task. As he struggled to keep the jacket on the heater while leaving enough room for the other clothes, he stole a glance at Hamburger.

While Cola’s jacket had protected most of his undershirt, Ham had not been so lucky, taking the main brunt of the downpour. Even his brown tank top was drenched, geez.

“You should probably take off your tank top, bro.” Cola took a step back, hoping the jacket would stay in place. It didn’t, and made a wet noise as it hit the ground.

Hamburger looked down at himself and then somehow just now realized how soaked he was. “Aw geez, I probably should.”

He was about to pull the dripping item off when he stopped, hand on the shirt’s bottom edge, and grimaced. “Though… I should probably wait until I get new clothes.”

For a second, Cola eyed the sliver of skin that had been exposed, and then handwaved at Ham. “Eh, don’t worry mate, I’ll go down and get dry clothes from the old grape codger.”

Ham looked up, surprised. “You sure? I can just ask Red Wine myself- I mean, I’m the one that actually needs it.”

“Dude, I need like new pants too. Besides, it won’t be too much trouble dealing with him, it’s Red Wine we’re talking about here.”

“It’s… it’s precisely because it’s Red Wine...”

“It’s no biggie, man. I’ll hand them to you asap!” Cola winked again as he slipped behind the door before Ham could object.

\----

It was indeed a biggie. Red Wine had spent almost fifteen minutes forcing Cola through several sets of aristocratic looking suits. Cola hadn’t known that it was possible to look this pompous and pretentious, with all this talk about “cravats” and “pea-coats.” It was only when Cola had cried out in desperation that Hamburger had probably died of hypothermia by this time that the older Food Soul relented.

Cola scratched his neck again. Fuck, why the hell did nobles like choking themselves with high collars and shit? Was it really fashion like Red Wine said? It felt more like masochism.

He knocked on the door. “Ham?”

Cola creaked the door open. On the furnace were all of their clothes, drying. Hamburger had somehow managed to finesse his way into fitting everything on the surface, quite the impressive feat. And lying on one of the beds, was Hamburger himself, peacefully sleeping. He was also completely shirtless.

Admittedly, Cola and Ham had been around each other long enough that they were more than comfortable with nudity, but on the other hand, Cola would be the first to admit that shirtless Ham was more than a little distracting.

Still, if Cola were Ham, he would have thrown the wet shirt off after the first five minutes passed.

Cola sat down on the bed, about to shake Ham awake when he noticed. His brown hair wasn’t in its normal ponytail. Instead, it was strewn about the bed, curled in wavy patterns against the white mattress.

Hamburger always looked a bit… odd when his hair was down. When Cola stopped and thought about it, it was really quite impressive how well it always managed to stay up, stubbornly resisting gravity. Was it hair gel? Wind constantly tousling his locks?

When his hair was up, Hamburger always looked like his outgoing and friendly self. The way his bangs bobbed whenever his head nodded, how consistently fluffy it appeared (and was). But… when Hamburger let his hair down from the ponytail, he couldn’t quite place what exactly replaced Hamburger’s typical aura.

Cola gingerly reached out a hand to feel Hamburger’s locks. He definitely looked more mysterious, the way his bangs half obscured his eyes. There was something even… dreamy? That’s how Red Wine would describe it, Cola thought.

Carefully, he brushed back a strand. Hamburger stirred a bit, and Cola smiled.

 _“Co-laaa,“_ A voice sung out as the door opened.

Instantly, Cola’s hand shot back, as if he were touching iron hot needles.

Red Wine poked his head in. ”Cola, you simply must try on this collar suit I found. Oh, did Hamburger actually pass from hypothermia?”

Cola made a face. “No, he’s just sleeping. And no to the collar suit. Haven’t you heard of knocking?”

Red Wine sniffed. “I have, but do keep in mind that this _is_ my house, not yours.”

He walked over and sat across from Cola on the other bed. He threw a glance at the stacked furnace. “Hm, you actually managed to squeeze it all on?”

“Ham did it.”

“Of course. You don’t strike me like the innovative type.”

Hey, I’ll have you know I’m a master of innovation. One time, I taped a banana to my guitar as a reminder to eat breakfast! It works like a dream!”

The look Red Wine had on was a very strange cross between disgust, horror, and pity. He quickly turned his eyes over to Hamburger.

“He’s absolutely drenched. How are you not?” Red Wine purses his lips, quirking an eyebrow.

Cola exhaled. “He… he carried me through the rain. He kept on running through the streets even though it was obvious that neither of us knew where we were going.”

He laughed, sounding more tired than he intended. “If he wasn’t so insistent on shielding me, he wouldn’t be so soaked right now.”

Red Wine didn’t answer for a bit. Then, he placed a hand on his chin, looking reflective. “He reminds me a lot like Steak, you know. Always thinking of others before himself.”

Cola stared at Hamburger’s sleeping frame. “...Yeah.”

There was only quiet for a few seconds then, punctuated only by the soft sounds of Ham’s breathing.

Red Wine stood up, dusting the non-existent dust off his pants. “Well, I ought to be going now. Are you going to be giving him his new clothes or what?”

Cola rolled his eyes. “I will, I will. I just want let him sleep a little bit longer.”

“That’s deserved. God knows that you already run him ragged.”

There was a note of strain in Cola’s chuckle. “Yup. Dude needs a break.”

Red Wine either didn’t notice it or chose not to. There was only a slight creak as the door shut behind him. Cola turned back to look at Hamburger.

He didn’t get it.

He didn’t get the quiet moments between them. He didn’t get the times that Hamburger laced his fingers with his, and kept it that way. He didn’t get how intensely and profoundly… _happy_ Hamburger always seemed around him.

Most of all, he didn’t get why Ham treated him like he was his world.

Wasn’t that what he always wanted? To be in the limelight? The center of attention?

He paused. It was because of his selfishness that he had lost a friend and a bandmate.

He didn’t want to lose Ham. In fact, it had been Ham who had helped grow past that. But why did he feel so tense when Hamburger shivered, running through the rain? Why did he feel like his heart was going to burst whenever Hamburger just… hugged him, not asking questions about his silence or his tears?

He didn’t know anything. However, he wouldn’t let his egoism consume him again. He would be there for Ham like Ham always was for him.

But…. he’d let himself do one last selfish thing.

He leaned down, and slowly, softly, brushed his lips against Hamburger’s.

“Wake up, Ham.” He whispered, barely audible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> up next- Yellow Wine x Sake 2: electric boogaloo


	18. PizzaxCassata (college au)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY I LIED AGAIN- actually I also write on the tumblr imagine-food-souls and this was a request we recently got and i liked it enough to post it here and also so u guys can have more content

“Heck yeah! No school!” 

Running ahead of Cassata and Cheese, Pizza dove onto his knees and scooped up a huge mound of snow. Springing to his feet, he launched it all into the air. Instead of creating a gentle shower of flakes, both Cheese and Cassata cringed as wet chunks fell on their head and shoulders. Cheese even yelped as a piece found a way through her collar and onto her neck.

“Pizza, you’re dead!” She yanked his braid down, growling menacingly.

“No!! Cassata, save me!” Pizza’s head bobbed up and down as Cheese jerked him around. 

“Come on, Cheese,” Cassata sighed, putting a gloved hand on her shoulder. “You can get revenge on him later. No need to rip out his hair follicles.”

Cheese gave one last look to Pizza before she let go of the braid, leaving the blond man to rub at his aching neck. 

Cassata dusted the snowflakes off Pizza’s hair. “Pizza, maybe don’t eject snow at Cheese? You know she hates getting wet.”

“I just wanted to celebrate the snow day!” Pizza pouted, lightly batting at Cassata’s hand. “No school! No classes and no homework, just running in the snow!”

“We have online assignments, you know.”

“Don’t remind me…”

Cheese punched Pizza’s shoulder. “You probably haven’t started even the first calc web assignment, have you?”

“Neither have you!” Pizza whined.

“Nuh uh! I was responsible and started early!”

“I bet you haven’t even finished the first set of problems then, you— AAAAAAA MY ARM!!”

“Stop twisting his arm Cheese, we can’t afford healthcare.”

Cheese looked away from trying to break Pizza in half to remark, “It’s fine Cassata, the school clinic can probably fix it~”

She pushed Pizza’s arm down further, eliciting a pained whimper from him. “Besides, we can always ask one of the med students, like that creepy Harry Potter looking dude.”

Cassata stiffened at the mention of the med student, but Cheese didn’t seem to notice. 

“I don’t like that Wispy guy…” Pizza mumbled as Cheese let go of his arm (but not before giving him one last pinch) “He’s weird, and always talking about dreams for some reason…” 

She rolled her eyes at him. “You know I was joking about Whiskey, right? I wouldn’t want him within ten feet of me or any of my body parts. And he talks about dreams all the time because it’s part of his study, duh.”

“Hey Cheese!” A voice floated over to the trio. 

Cheese turned to the voice and excitedly grinned and waved. “Hi Gingerbread!”

Gingerbread returned the gesture, walking up to them with her typical poker face.  

Cassata politely waved too, while Pizza was preoccupied with nursing his arm. 

“Watchu doing Gingy?” 

“Nothing much. On my way to grab some hot chocolate.” Gingerbread sighed, causing white clouds to form. “Got tired of third wheeling Steak and Red Wine, so thought I would treat myself.”

“Ooo! Sounds nice…” Cheese quickly rubbed her small hands together. “Ginger, lemme join you! I need food and shelter!!”

“Only if you promise not to ‘lose’ your wallet again. I’m not paying for your hot coco and then seventy million snacks.” Ginger turned and walked away, Cheese following behind. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it~” Cheese threw a look back to the two. “See ya two in bit!”

“She’s so quick to pick food over us….” Pizza whined as they watched the two shrink in the distance. 

Cassata shrugged. “Maybe.” He saw the way Cheese’s hand twitched towards Ginger’s. He wasn’t dumb- he knew all too well that nerve wracking feeling of excitement and anxiety.

“Hey Cassata?”

“Yeah?” He turned to Pizza, forgetting his thoughts on the two girls.

“Let’s make a snowman!” Pizza flopped back on the snowbank, rolling around.

The redhead laughed, shielding himself from the spray of snow with an arm. “Well first of all, you shouldn’t destroy all of your building materials. And besides,”

He knelt down to the sitting Pizza, who eyed him curiously. Cassata pursed his lips at he poked Pizza’s cheek, causing the other man to cry out in surprise. “You’re almost as red as my hair. Frostbite only takes minutes to set in, you know?”

“I’m fine!!” Pizza pouted as he got back up. “We can always go back in if we want to, and it only takes like five minutes to make a teeny snowman!”

Cassata folded his arms. And then unfolded them and sighed. “Fine, but just for ten more minutes, okay?”

“Yay!”

Pizza immediately set Cassata to work on the lowest and biggest snowball for the body. Rolling behind him, Pizza hummed happily as he pushed a smaller snowball. 

“Hey Cassata?~”

“Mm?” The ball was stuck. He grunted as he gave it a good shove, displacing it. 

“What do you think you’re gonna major in?”

“No clue.” He replied. “All I really ever wanted to do was to get away from home.”

He exhaled, and nothing appeared. His body temperature must be lowering. 

“Maybe forensics? Sounds kinda cool. But I really don’t know what I want to do at the end of the day...”

He couldn’t see Pizza, but it sounded like he was shrugging. 

“Same~” The blond responded. “Cheese has been determined since high school to go into the restaurant business, being such a big foodie and all.”

“Me though, I just wanna have fun, that’s all.” Cassata heard Pizza quickly roll up beside him. 

“Don’t we all.”

“Duh~ If I’m completely honest, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to go to college.” Pizza patted his snowball. 

“It was more like I happened to get into the same university as Cheese and decided to follow her here and see what happened, haha,”

“Is she mad?”

“Definitely.” Pizza’s grinning face popped up. “This was supposed to be her ‘freedom’, after all. But between you and me, I think she’s grateful to have a piece of home with her.”

“I bet.” Cassata wryly smiled. For as tough and mischievous Cheese acted, she was a bit of a softy deep down. 

“But anyways,” Suddenly, Pizza reached out and grabbed Cassata’s freezing hand in his own. “We don’t need to figure out what we wanna do for months now, so don’t stress yourself.”

The smile that Pizza had on was so bright and warm that it was a miracle that all the nearby snow didn’t evaporate. “No matter what happens, we’ll always be there for each other, degree or no degree~”

Cassata just stared.  _ God, _ he would die for that smile. 

“Cas?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he shook himself out of it. “Just… that means a lot to me. Thanks, Pizza.” He squeezed Pizza’s hand back. 

“You’re welcome!”

Cassata stood up. The ball was about up to his thigh now. “Is this good now?”

“Yeah!!” Pizza looked absurdly happy over frozen water. But it didn’t stop Cassata from smiling a little himself. 

“Cas, help me lift mine onto it!!”

“...Pizza how is your snowball already bigger than mine.”

Pizza took a look at his snowball. Despite remaining behind Cassata the entire time, the ball was larger by a significant degree. 

Cassata looked behind him. Ah. 

While Cassata had taken a straight and direct line, Pizza’s twisted and turned, winding and whirling. Judging by the snow trail, he also… looped around a tree?

He sighed and turned to Pizza. “Never mind. C’mon, help me lift mine onto yours.”

Lifting the snowball was actually much easier said than done. It took a few tries, but finally, the two of them managed to hoist the ball a bit off the ground. 

“Okay Cassata… on the count of three, let’s put it on!” Pizza’s huge eyes blinked rapidly. “One…”

“You sure it won’t crumble…?”

“Completely! Two…”

Cassata sighed, and braced himself. 

“Three!”

Pizza was correct that the snow wouldn’t crumble as soon as they hoisted it off the ground. However, they had overshot to the left a little, and now their snowman resembled the leaning Tower of Pisa more than anything. 

“No issue!” Pizza slapped a comically small head on top, anchored to the right. “He’ll just be… dancing?”

The dancing snowman topic was interrupted by a voice calling out. “I’m back~!”

Turning around, the duo were greeted by the sight of a cheery looking Cheese walking towards them, cup of cocoa in each hand. 

“Hey Cheese— where did Ginger go?” Cassata gratefully took the warm cup of cocoa and wrapped his icey fingers around it. 

“Ah, Gingy had to go and deal with Eggnog,” Cheese responded, tail drooping. “Something about Turkey, I think.” 

Cassata nodded knowingly, while Pizza longingly stared at the remaining cup in Cheese’s hand. 

She looked him straight in the eye, then popped the lid open and took a big sip. “What? You think I was gonna get you one after accusing me of being lazy?”

Pizza released a pained cry. “Cheese, you meanie head!” 

“It’s what you deserve, walnut!”

“Stop fighting you two— You can share mine, Pizza.” 

“I love you so much Cassata.” Pizza sighed dreamily as the redhead handed him the steaming cup. Cassata ignored how his heart skipped a beat there. 

It was at this moment that Cheese finally noticed their snowman. “Geez, what happened here?”

“It’s Mister Pepperoni!” Pizza defensively wrapped an arm around the snowman. “I won’t have you talking bad on him!”

“Gosh, Mr. Pepperoni, I’m so sorry my idiot brother brought you into this cold, harsh world.” Cheese knelt down to pick up a few pebbles, and pressed them into the tiny head. 

Cassata tilted his head. “His eyes look like a fly’s.”

“Well then which one of you gave him such a tiny head?!”

Pizza immediately looked away, causing Cheese to glare at him. 

“Of course,” she lightly punched his shoulder. “Should’ve known- it matches your own.” 

“I was gonna add more…” Pizza muttered, rubbing his shoulder. 

Then suddenly, he plucked Cheese’s empty plastic cup out of her hands, provoking a “Hey!” from her. Dumping out the last droplets of hot chocolate, he placed the cup on top. It almost entirely engulfed the head, but the cup remained above the eyes. 

Cheese took a step back and giggled. “He looks absolutely ridiculous.”

“We haven’t added on the arms yet!”

“Yeah, like that’ll make a difference.” Cheese glanced back at Cassata and Pizza. “You two need to go inside- seriously, Cassata, you’re looking blue.”

It was at this point that Cassata realized that he had lost feeling in his cheeks. He raised a hand to touch his face and realized that his fingers had also numbed. 

“Let’s just take a photo first!” Pizza took out his phone. “Who knows how much longer until global warming eats us all~”

“Cassata, you’re the tallest so you should take it.” Pizza placed the blocky iPhone 5 in Cassata’s frostbitten fingers. Then, they all huddled around in front of Mr. Pepperoni and jostled each other, trying pose. 

“Cheese, stop fixing your hair, just stay still!”

“Well stop squeezing me! You’re gonna knock me over!”

“I’m trying to hug everyone! Who doesn’t like hugs?”

Cassata shuffled around, his torso wrapped in Pizza’s right arm. “Hey, I’m gonna just take the photo now. Quit it.” 

Cheese and Pizza opened their mouths to protest, but upon seeing Cassata’s extended arm holding the phone, they both shut it and grinned.

The camera flash went off. 

Back home, Cassata didn’t have many photos- of himself or really anything at all. What was there to capture? He blinked, and saw darkness, flashes of panic and fear. 

His mind had already captured those moments, he didn’t need more reminders from photography.

But for the first time, as he looked at the grainy little photo on Pizza’s tiny phone, there was something else. 

Something that was worth capturing. Something that was worth remembering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next: yellow wine x sake for realsies


	19. YellowWinexSake (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slaps  
> so i know i said on my tumblr i would be mia because of exams but i wrote this trying to avoid studying for my exams so enjoy!
> 
> gege = big brother  
> jiejie = big sister

Yellow Wine knew that he wasn’t exactly the sharpest knife in the armory. 

When Jiuniang came running to him on how to solve an intriguing riddle, it took her less time to figure it all out herself than it did for him to work through the first part. 

"It's okay, Yellow Wine gege," Jiuniang had said, smiling and clutching her yellowed notebook. "You helped me anyway!"

He wasn't sure about that. He settled for collecting what little remained of his dignity, stoically nodding and ignoring his burning ears.

One couldn't forget all of the times that he had pushed on those "pull" doors, nor the time spent getting lost because he couldn't read those god forsaken maps. (Okay, that wasn't his fault- it wasn't on him that they hired anybody these days to draw maps.)

The elephant in the room, though... was Sake. 

"Do you like Sake da ge?" Cold Rice Shrimp had asked him, swinging her legs over the engawa veranda besides him. 

"’Course I do," he’d replied, carefully wiping down his blade. "Nobody else can keep up with me like him."

"Like drinking?"

"Watch your mouth. Kids shouldn't be talking about that kinda stuff." He pinched her cheek, eliciting a whine. “But yes, he’s the only one who comes close to my alcohol tolerance.”

He lets go, and picked up his cloth napkin again. “Besides, why would anyone ever dislike Sake? He’s nice to you and Jiuniang, and everyone else.”

He continues, polishing the sword’s metal with a practiced ease. “He’s smart and he’s calm,” Yellow pours out a little bit of mineral oil, just another coat, and rubs it into the blade. “He always keeps it together, you know?”

Cold Rice Shrimp hummed, kicking her legs up and down. “Yeah… he never says no to playing with me and Jiuniang!”

Yellow chuckled, wryly smiling at the smaller Food Soul. “How could anyone say no to you two?” 

Memories of a gentle voiced Sake lulling the two girls to sleep drifted by his vision. (He would never admit it, but every time he heard that lilting voice, it soothed him a bit too.)

“He’s patient, and doesn’t seem to ever mess up. Never freaks out. Always knows what to do… unlike someone else, heh...”  (Another thing he would never admit: he envied the silver haired man’s collectedness, his tranquility. But never to resentment. There was… there was too much else to let himself dislike the other Food Soul.)

“Yeah… there’s a lot to like about Sake…” His voice trailed off. He absentmindedly played with the vial of mineral oil between his fingers. 

A breeze blew by, carrying with it pale flower petals.

"Yellow Wine gege, do you love Sake da ge?" Cold Rice Shrimp turned to him, eyes wide with curiosity. 

Time seemed to almost stop. The rustling of the leaves disappeared, the trees freezing with him.

“W-What?!” He manages to stutter out.

Cold Rice Shrimp jumps up and down, excitedly. "Like I love you, and Jiuniang jiejie!"

His throat was closing in on him. “I…. I-?” 

“That’s…. Not something little kids should ask...” He quietly sputtered, flushing red hot. 

“Why not?” Cold Rice Shrimp pouts. “Kids can’t talk about anything...”

Whatever gods Sake always talks about must have have taken pity on him, because it was at this point that Jiuniang emerged into the courtyard. Cold Rice Shrimp’s attention was drawn away from interrogating Yellow Wine, and her lantern rattled as she jumped down to meet her. 

Unfortunately, closely following Jiuniang was Sake. 

The gods must have humored him, too.

Sake patted Cold Rice Shrimp’s head (“You two, don’t wander too far, okay?”) as he walked up to Yellow, joining him on engawa.

“Afternoon, Yellow.” Sake serenely greeted him. “How goes your sword polishing?”

“‘S going fine,” he responded, probably rougher than he intended. He almost cut himself wiping the sword down, pushing too hard. He supposed his mind was preoccupied, after all.

What exactly did he feel for Sake?

They were always great drinking buddies- like Cold Rice Shrimp said. He guessed he had some degree of affection for Sake, like he did with Jiuniang and Cold Rice Shrimp. 

And yet… he didn’t love him like he loved Cold Rice Shrimp and Jiuniang, or really, anyone. 

Nobody had ever made him blush furiously with a simple compliment on his hair, ever made his heart jump into his throat when their hands grazed each other, ever made him feel so lightheaded and nauseous with a placid smile. 

So really, he was operating from no reference for these feelings. Great. 

He… he supposed he could try asking Sake directly. Even if the thought of just asking made his stomach twist itself into knots.

But he and Sake had known each other for some years- it wouldn’t be a big deal; that was the kind of thing friends just asked each other, no issue, right?

He took a deep breath, trying to steady the irregular beat in his chest. 

“Hey Sake?”

“Mmm?” Sake replied, inspecting a flower petal in his hands. 

“What do you feel about me?” He tried to sound casual, eyes still glued on his sword. “Like… you don’t find me annoying, or anything?”

“Of course not. I love you, naturally.” Sake responded, like it was the most ordinary thing to say.

Yellow, instead, quickly whipped his head up, mouth agape in shock. Oh _ gods. _

“Is… Is something the matter, Yellow?” Sake tilted his head, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Did I upset you?”

“I- Uh- I mean- Fuck-“ Yellow frantically stammered. (Shit.  _ Shit what does he do now???? _ )

He didn’t know what to do, hell, he hadn’t even planned on getting this far. So again, he settled for something else: burying his searing face in his mineral oil soaked hands. (He much preferred suffocating in the metallic scent to letting Sake see him like this.)

“Yellow?” A gentle voice asked. “Are you alright? I apologize if I’ve perturbed you.”

He moved a hand off his face to wave it at Sake. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he mumbled. “J-Just didn't expect that...”

And then: He heard a quiet, subdued laugh. He looked up from his hands.

The sight of Sake’s refined face breaking into a goofy, tender grin was enough to stop his heart. 

“I thought you knew,” The other Food Soul smiled. “Even Sukiyaki poked fun at how obvious I was~”

Of course he hadn’t. (How was he supposed to know??)

“Um...” He bit his lip. He had lost enough face for today, might as well go all in. “Sake.”

“Yes?”

“How do you…. Love me?” (Even just the word itself was a struggle...) “Like comrades? Like family?”

Sake put a finger to his lip, staring into the distance.

“My love for you,” he began, carefully. “Is like the flower blooming each morning, to praise the sun. An acolyte to his god, perhaps. Something forever beyond my comprehension, and yet, I submit my everything to.”

He laced their fingers together, intertwining, and Yellow felt the world tilt. “On the other hand, it is also comparable to the romance of the rain and the volcano. Equal and opposite, but still, much more of themselves together than ever apart.”

“I must beg for your forgiveness, Yellow,” Sake said, looking at him directly now. “All of my attempts have failed to truly convey my feelings for you. My tongue knows no adequate comparison or metaphor, for my sentiments towards you have been so, so much.”

Yellow Wine didn’t reply at first, only staring back blankly. And then, he seemed to almost relax, and let their fingers further entwine into each other. 

“I want to be honest with you,” He softly replied. “I don’t think I completely understand. But, I think understand enough to say this.”

“... L-l-love you too.” The words didn’t seem nearly as smooth and elegant as when Sake said it, but the other man’s beaming face implied otherwise. He squeezed his hand, and Sake returned the gesture.

He closed his eyes, and laid his head on Yellow’s shoulder.

“私は愛とは何かを知っているのであれば、それはあなたのおかげです.” Sake faintly murmured.

“Hm?”

“Ah, it’s a secret. I’ll tell you later~~”

He could wait- Sake had done that for him.  It was the least he could do, being not the sharpest knife in the armory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “私は愛とは何かを知っているのであれば、それはあなたのおかげです.” = "If I did anything right in my life, it was when I gave my heart to you."
> 
> Next up: Boston Lobster x Vodka

**Author's Note:**

> A series of shipping oneshots I’m writing between the Food Souls of the mobile app game Food Fantasy. Feel free to request any ships, though I won’t write anything that’s explicit, or too NSFW. Ask me if you’re not sure if it’s iffy.


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